SPN: NG    The Road So Far
by waywardbard
Summary: Season Two. Jesse, Claire, and Ben must learn to adapt to their new circumstances and face the consequences of the Nephilim's continued devotion as well as the newest threat looming ahead of them.   -Discontinued-
1. Episode 1: Old Man Winter

Carbondale, Illinois; a tiny burg at the southern tip of the state with a popular reputation for debauchery and meth addiction, mainly because of the nationally ranked 'party school' of Southern Illinois University. But when college was between sessions, like it was now for the Christmas break, the population barely scraped a thousand people. Most of them were either dyed-in-the-wool hippies, or pure bred hicks.

For three months, she, Ben and Jesse had stayed under the radar. Keeping to themselves in the more desolate places of the country, laying low was the best course of action they could all agree on. Despite being on the edge of the Bible Belt, they were still in Illinois, and December still brought freezing rain and bouts of fluffy snow. Claire didn't mind the cold, or the crisp air that tangled lightly through her hair as she crossed a nearly-vacant street toward the cozy looking Harbagh's Cafe, her hands pushed into the pockets of a well-loved canvass parka. It cleared her sinuses, and most importantly, calmed her stomach.

Just reaching her second trimester, though it was still toned with barely a hint of bulge below her naval, it was _incredibly _sensitive, and leap-frogged with her liver as she slipped through the cafe door and was greeted with the smells of greasy breakfast food. Country Western Christmas music played over the din of conversations being had and meals being eaten. Claire's cheeks were pink from the wind outside, but warmed when her eyes landed on a pair that were obviously seeking hers from the small crowd of booths and tables.

Claire walked up to the older huntress - her surrogate mother - whose gaze she could already feel burning demanding holes in her face. Besides texts sent back and forth to let her know she was still alive and fine, Claire had only called her two days earlier, and asked to meet specifically in Carbondale. Kat didn't know anything else.

Claire thought she deserved to hear everything in person. Kat's expression was schooled calm as she rose, then pulled her in for a hard hug. A wave of shampoo and cigarettes hit her senses, but Claire returned the hug without hesitation, closing her eyes and pulling herself in close.

"I should tan your hide, child," Kat whispered against her hair, holding her that much tighter. "Four months and all I got were texts? Don't you ever do this to me again."

"Sorry..." Claire replied, feeling the response inadequate, but it had to do for now. After the twinge in her stomach subsided, the emotions caught up just as quick. She felt her eyes burn from the back, and had to sniff to push it all back down. She hadn't even gotten to the first details yet-this was going to be a long conversation. "We had to lay low. _Really_ low." Claire pressed a kiss to the other woman's cheek before extracting herself gently. Her eyes were still on Kat's face as she started shrugging out of her coat; another good thing about winter-lots of layers to cover strips of permanently reddened skin. All except her wrists, which Claire kept hidden most of the time by long, fingerless gloves. "We still do, actually."

"That why you're picking Bumfuck, Illinois as your rendezvous point?" she replied with her brows arched. The man sitting at the table gave a polite cough, which brought Kat back to herself. "Right. Sorry. This is Father Harry. Father, this is Claire."

The fuzzy-faced man in his mid-fifties and long, salt and pepper hair smiled happily up at the younger blond, as if to say _yes, this is awkward, but who cares?_Claire looked down at him, caught in a moment of confusion.

"_Father_?" she asked, trying to keep the odd level of surprise out of her voice. Claire had been raised Catholic: priests were clean cut, put together and rigid. This man looked like he'd rolled out of bed, put on a Grateful Dead album, and lit up. Still, she shook his hand when he offered it.

"A's me," he said with a grin, and refolded his arms on the table. Claire looked at Kat as she settled down in the chair across from them.

"Now I see what you meant by 'unorthodox'."

Kat arched her brows slightly at her, as though tell her to mind her manners, but otherwise said nothing. "Where are your shadows, anyway?"

Claire either missed the reprimanding look, or ignored it all together. Father Harry didn't seem to mind either way.

"Shadowing," she said quietly, looking briefly to her own hands as they folded on the table. She met Kat's gaze, pointedly looking over her shoulder toward the far end of the crowded restaurant. Kat hummed in affirmation before picking up her coffee cup and taking a deep pull from it.

"Should I give you two a minute to talk things over?"

Claire rolled her lips, obviously contemplating. She slid a look over to the priest, who again smiled back with an ease that Claire couldn't quite comprehend. "Actually... could you excuse us for a few, Father?" she asked with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Just a few, promise."

"Oh, no problem, Darlin'," he dismissed the mild tension as if it were a fruit fly, big dimples in his cheeks half-hidden by several months of beard. Harry patted Kat on the shoulder and scooped up his coffee, moving to the diner counter where he was greeted enthusiastically by the elderly line cook.

Claire followed him with her eyes for a few moments before rubbing at her face with a still-gloved hand. "Where were priests like him when I was growin' up."

Kat half-smiled as she finished her cup and put it at the end of the table, then folded her hands on the top of it.

"Probably here," she said wryly.

"Wouldn't doubt it," Claire returned in the same tone. She'd gone back to watching the flecked Formica table-top, her nose wrinkled when a waitress passed the table with a plateful of breakfast burritos. She cleared her throat, and slid one hand to her stomach, pushing a breath. "Like I said, we're still laying low. Some serious things went down after Oregon, and we're on a couple big shit-lists."

Kat's brows arched quietly. "Do I get to be let in on the details about this, or is this moreorless like what happened back in Kentucky?"

Claire went quiet. As much as she wanted to clue the other woman in - to _everything_- the details would take well over the time they could sit there, waiting for Father Harry, who she had not expected to be there. Also, she couldn't help but notice that particular cluster-fuck from her distant past had one shared detail, however completely different the context was. Claire was fairly certain Kat was going to shit a brick, no matter how many or few details she got from this conversation.

"You do," she finally sighed. The burrito smell was still turning her stomach, even from two tables down. It was clearly distracting. "But there's a lot to tell. I didn't know Gerry Garcia was gonna be with you."

"You told me you needed him, so I got him," Kat answered reaching across the table and putting her hands over Claire's. "I didn't wanna let you down. If you want me to just pass his number on to you and ask him to catch up with you later, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Claire turned her hand around in Kat's, giving it a squeeze. "I didn't come here just for him. I needed to see you." For one quick moment, she glanced around the other woman's wiry shoulder, back to where Jesse and Ben waited, just part of the crowd, bundled in winter gear and sun glasses.

"I'm pregnant."

When Claire brought her eyes back to Kat's, she found the older woman slightly slack-jawed with wide eyes. A moment later and she was pulling back her hands and taking a sudden breath. Her lips twitched when she finally brought them back together.

"_Oh._"

Claire wasn't expecting the sudden sting in her chest when Kat pulled away, but besides a subtle flash in her eyes, she kept her expression even for as long as she could. Eventually it wavered, and her gaze lowered to the table-a slightly nervous smile formed on her lips.

"_Surprise_."

The shadow on the table shifted, and then before Claire really had a chance to respond Kat was squeezing into the booth next to her, turning Claire at the shoulder so they were nearly face-to-face.

"Clairebear, what are you doing?"

Forcing her breath a little slower than normal, Claire's mildly masked expression, just for a few seconds, melted away. Determination and fear were in her eyes, along with a quiet conviction that was hard to pinpoint. Raw honesty searched her mentor's face, looking for the same thing Kat was looking for: the meaning behind words that weren't being said.

For a split second, her concentration broke when a flash of memory put Kat's face in her mind, weathered another twelve years in the future. Claire blinked it away and took a deep breath. "I'm marrying Ben."

"What, because he's the daddy?" Kat asked, but a second later her eyes narrowed a little. "Or because he wants to be?"

"Because I _love him_," Claire answered quietly, but with enough strength in her tone to address both Kat's questions. Kat's hands moved to her shoulders, before lifting to her face.

"Sweetie," she said softly. "I know what's going on in your head and in your heart. I know, okay? But this- having a child, after everything you've gone through, that's not going to make all the bad things go away. All it's gonna do is turn the paranoia dial to critical. _Trust me._I thought I could juggle it, too."

"Kat..." Claire's breath was a little shaky as she gently put her hands over the other woman's, lowering them from her cheeks. She still held onto them, though. "Do I _look_ like I think everything's gonna be hunky-dory?" If she could, Claire was trying to burn all the images, all the memories of what she'd gone through, what she _knew_, into the older woman's brain. Hopefully, the look in her eyes was enough for now, until they could talk somewhere more private. "The dial's already past critical and snapped off in the red."

"I'll say it again:" Kat replied, her voice low and still holding that note of quiet fear. "What are you _doing?_"

Claire just looked at her, trying to manage her own tribulations with her sense of duty, faith, and love. It wasn't easy seeing that old, raw anxiety in Kat's eyes. She knew it came from experience, but Kat's past was, to put it lightly, vastly different from Claire's current situation. That did not make for a simple explanation.

Like anything was simple anymore.

"Following my gut," Claire finally uttered in earnest. "Isn't that what you taught me?"

Kat's eyes softened significantly at her words, and in the next moment she was pulling her hands free again and embracing her, holding her tightly. Claire curled her arms around Kat in return, thankful on a surprisingly deep level for the closeness. Her eyes closed, her face half-buried in Kat's hair, almost the same color as her own.

"Of all the ways I've needed you before," she whispered. "I need you to _trust _in me."

"Ain't a case of 'need,' Clairebear," Kat answered in a similar tone. "It's a case of 'have.'"

Claire hugged her a little tighter. "Thank you. I'll explain more, I promise. Just not here." Not that it would do anything to settle the other woman's nerves, but there were so few people in the world they could trust. Kat was one of them. Claire couldn't stand the thought of going through this without her on her side.

"I seem to be hearin' that a lot lately," Kat said with a hit of bitterness as she finally pulled back. "But okay. S'long as you promise." Her eyes moved over to where Harry was subtly watching them in the mirror on the back of the breakfast bar, resisting the urge to make a face at him or flip him a rude sign. All he would have done was laugh anyway.

"So I take it askin' you to meet here was probably a bad idea," she pointed out. "That'd explain the green to your gills."

"To put it lightly," Claire breathed, pointedly _not_ looking in the direction of the chorizo, eggs, and jalapenos nearby.

"I'll go tell Harry to come out and meet you. G'head outside and I'll be out in a sec," Kat replied, already starting to stand. Claire followed suit after a quick readjustment to the cross around her neck, one of the signals the boys were watching for.

"Tell'im sorry for the strange intro," she said, threading her arms through her jacket sleeves, then arranging her hair out from the fur-lined hood. "I take it he's used to things like that?"

"Not surprisingly, yes," Kat said, flashing her a quick smile before she trotted off.

* * *

><p>The "all is well" signal from Claire was a relief and Jesse's eyes didn't even follow her as she went outside. He and Ben stayed where they were, finishing their coffee, so as not to draw attention. As they put down their cash, a figure blocked their exit. Jesse felt a wrench in his stomach as he looked up to find Kat standing there.<p>

There was a pause before he said, "Hi."

"Sit," Kat said gruffly. Ben didn't even hesitate, immediately sitting back down. Jesse, however, stayed standing.

"If you're going to make a scene," he said, his voice low, "can we at least take it somewhere private?"

Kat glared daggers into him. "Yes, because I'm the one that drama follows around like a bad case of acne on a thirteen year old boy."

Scowling, Jesse sat, though he focused his eyes on Ben. Kat slid into the seat across from them, the lines of her face still pulled into a scowl.

"Let me be clear with you boys," she said. "You are not the only people in the whole damn world who care about Claire. So don't you ever keep me away from her again, understand?" Ben licked his lips and took a breath to speak, but Kat was quick to cut him off. "Don't give me the 'lying low' bullshit, I just got a heaping spoonful of it from her. Now, I'm not sayin' you haven't got a right to watch yourselves and if you need to hide, by all means do, but I am not at the bottom of your goddamn phone tree, and I'm also not here to clean up after you."

Jesse's expression hardened as he looked at her. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Ben slid his hands under the table, one moving to rest on Jesse's knee, which he gave a light squeeze. He knew Kat's tone, though the last time he'd heard it, it'd been attached to a different voice and a different face.

"We're sorry, Kat," he said gently. "We weren't out to make you worry. If y'wanna be more involved in this, we won't stop you."

Kat turned her glare on him, though it was a little more subdued. "Damn right, you won't."

"That's actually up to Claire," Jesse said, leaning back against the booth. "It's not like we're going to tell her what to do, or do something she doesn't want us to."

Kat gave him a deeply skeptical look, sliding out of the booth without another word and heading off toward the exit. Ben let out a breath, bringing one hand up through his hair then down to scrub his face. Scowling, Jesse slid out of the booth and to his feet, waiting for Ben before going towards the door himself.

"You've never had the dating-my-daughter shit before, have you?" Ben asked him.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly, no. Parents never had a problem with me."

It took phenomenal effort for Ben not to roll his eyes at him. "Well, that's what you just experienced. Try not to take it so personal."

Jesse gave a snort, but he was a little more thoughtful as he looked to the door. "I'll wager you freaked out a lot of parents."

Ben shoved his shoulder playfully before grabbing the door handle and holding it open for him. "Moms loved me. Dads, not so much."

With a smirk, Jesse pinched his thigh as he went by. 

* * *

><p>Ben stared at the laptop monitor, his heart thudding away in his chest as he looked over the weather for the next few days. The blank word document at the bottom of the screen remained minimized and untouched for the past six hours.<p>

He thought about calling his mother and asking her for advice, but there was just no way of breaching the topic in a way that wouldn't immediately have her flying out to meet him. He was her first-born and only son; of _course_ she'd want to be there when he got married. Except that was the problem, wasn't it? The only way it counted was to them; there couldn't be a paper trail, and he didn't want to risk his mother possibly being followed or worse on her way to Carbondale.

Then there was Dean. He'd thought for the briefest moment of calling his father, but after their last in-person conversation, he had a pretty good idea that Dean wouldn't really want to be present for the ceremony either. Twelve years they hadn't spoke, and when he finally found him, it was like he was a kid again in Dean's eyes. He took a breath and let it out. At least there wasn't any heavy snow.

Wearing headphones, Jesse sat across from him at the table, eyes focused on Claire's laptop screen as he mashed buttons and occasionally swore. The pace grew a little more frenzied, his body hunching closer, until he let out a string of curses, some of which Ben had never heard but could guess the general gist of. Popping out the earbuds, Jesse looked over at him with a scowl.

"Chichen Itza is a killer, man, I'm telling you."

"Hm?" Ben asked distractedly, not looking up from the screen. At the other end of the room, the bathroom door opened fully and a slightly less-green looking Claire stepped out, swishing Listerine in her mouth. Ever since discovering mint was a nausea suppressent, she'd been brushing her teeth several times a day. Ben looked up at the door opening, catching sight of her and giving a faint smile before remembering once again that he hadn't accomplished anything for the past few hours. With a sigh, he brought back up the search screen for his research into what made vows so great.

"What day were you hopin' to do this?" he asked Claire. "Weather's s'pose to be good all this week. A little cold, but y'know."

She looked at him, pushing her brows up and pointing to her obviously full cheeks. She flashed the same finger in the universal sign for _hang on a second_ before heading back into the bathroom. Ben gave a sympathetic wince, feeling a little sheepish. Jesse looked between them, pushing back the urge to just put his headphones back on.

"You need... I dunno, help with any of that?" he asked.

"Father says he's open'til Christmas," Claire said tiredly, coming back out. She settled on the bed next to Jesse, curiously glancing at what he had up on the laptop. Ben chewed his lower lip silently as he watched them, fighting off the insecurities that warred on in his head. It'd been happening more and more lately, the closer to real everything was getting.

Then there was Jesse's role in everything. Ben didn't know what was going on in the other man's head, and given his own mental state, all he could wonder was if their talking about it openly just made him feel worse.

"Jess, pick a number between one and six."

Raising an eyebrow, Jesse said, "Three."

"Wednesday, it is," Ben said, dropping his eyes back to the monitor again. "Overcast all day and about 36 outside, so we'll make sure to dress a little warmer."

Never being one for video games, Claire's interest in the screen on Jesse's lap waned quickly, and she found herself sprawled behind him on the bed, her cheek propped by her palm. Her eyes were on Ben's profile, and the tension that'd taken residency there in the last month especially. It was somehow different than the normal anxiety they'd all been living with since Clifton, and it always spiked when this subject came up.

There was no denying the feeling of the eyes on him now. Ben took a breath and let it out, closing the lid of the laptop.

"It should be you two doing this," he said in a low voice. "Not me."

Jesse let out a long breath. "I'm not the marriage kind of guy, mate," he said, his tone light but expression serious. Claire stayed silent, watching Ben like he was a puzzle-box she couldn't figure out. It was better than giving any credence to the way her heart twisted at Ben's words.

His hands moved through his hair twice before he settled between his knees. It was so hard, finding the right way to say everything that was churning inside him. "It's— that doesn't actually help me at all, man," Ben said toward the ground. "And it isn't even... I know it bothers you somewhere deep down, otherwise you wouldn't've reacted the way you did when I first asked her."

Focusing on closing down his game, Jesse kept his voice even. "Knee jerk reaction. Was worried you might leave me. I'm not worried about that anymore."

Claire's hand slid between Jesse's shirt and the small of his back, her thumb stroking back and forth. It was a small comfort, given the heart-wrenching conflict written in Ben's posture. "Ben... if you're not sure about this—"

His eyes were on her even before she finished. "You know I want to," he interrupted, his voice still small. "I wouldn't've asked if I hadn't wanted to, you know that. I just—" his eyes moved to Jesse's, but he couldn't summon the words. Not after what'd he'd said. He was too afraid of the response. "I just don't want this to be something that hurts anyone, y'know?"

"I'm not getting hurt." Irritation crept into Jesse's voice. "I'm not into marriage, you are, that's it. It doesn't change anything."

Claire couldn't take her eyes off Ben's face, things working their way through her mind like rain water seeping through sand. When the realization struck, she finally closed her eyes at the uncomfortable throb that shot through her.

Ben dropped his gaze again, trying to ignore the painful stab in his chest and nodding around it.

"Okay," he said quietly.

After leaning into Jesse's shoulder to give it a quick kiss and a squeeze, Claire slid off the bed and crossed over to where Ben sat. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, nuzzling in close, holding him to her.

"By _hurts anyone_," she whispered against his cheek, keeping it low. "You mean _you_, don't you." Why didn't she see it earlier... Jesse's lack of enthusiasm for making anything so concrete was a deep-seeded fear of his, but she knew it had nothing to do with how they all felt for each other. She also knew that wasn't the way _Ben's_ head worked; he was upset because it technically didn't include all three of them. Claire kissed the side of his jaw and hugged him even closer. "Give him time."

Ben felt his face heat up in response, partly out of embarrassment and shame. He gave a small nod in answer and leaned back into her hold.

It was clear to Jesse by Claire's reaction that he'd said something wrong. The fact that he had no idea what was irritating as hell. "Look, tell me what to say, and I'll say it. I have no problem with you two marrying," Jesse said firmly. "Hell, you have my blessing, if that's what you need to hear."

Claire looked up from over Ben's shoulder, meeting Jesse's eyes with a soft-toned, thoughtful smile. She crooked her finger at him in beckoning, and mouthed the words '_Show, don't tell_'.

Brows knit, Jesse hesitated before getting up and coming to their side of the table. Since Claire was already at his back, Jesse knelt at Ben's side, twining their hands. "Seriously, mate. Talk to me."

Ben shook his head, though his grip on Jesse's hands tightened instinctively. "If you say it's nothin', it's nothin'. I'm... being stupid about it. Just ignore me." Claire curled her arms around his chest a little tighter and kissed his temple. A good-humored crack about hormones floated behind her lips, but she pushed it back down.

Jesse almost held back his response, but then that was exactly what he didn't want Ben to do. "You're getting married; you're supposed to be happy. And it's like you probably would be if it weren't for me." He brought their hands up, his lips brushing against Ben's knuckles. "So tell me what I can do to make you happy."

The heat was back in Ben's face again, only this time he had to fight off the urge to pull his hands away. "It's not..." he said around a thick tongue. "I'm fine. I want this. I've _wanted_ this. And it isn't even about being married, it's about..." He sighed and turned his eyes down again. "It's about showing everyone else and..." _and her,_ he added inwardly, "just— that this is all I need."

Letting out a long breath, Jesse leaned up to press his mouth to Ben's. Ben let out a shuddering breath, pulling his hands free in order to slide them up to either side of Jesse's face. Claire kept herself close, letting her eyes drift shut, concentrating on the simple warmth and tum of the two hearts pressed close to where her hands were on Ben's chest. Until a sudden stiff pang shot from her core, triggered by god-knew-what anymore, but all too familiar at this point. Extracting herself from them as gently as she could while driven by that urgency, she shuffled quick to the bathroom with a half-attempt to close the door, and save them the sound of her throwing up.

Jesse quickly pulled back, his expression twisting in sympathy and something a little more desperate. Ben craned his neck to look as well, frowning slightly before turning his eyes back to the body still in front of him.

"That just sucks," Jesse said, his arms sliding around Ben's neck.

"Unfortunate side-effect," Ben said distantly. He let his hands slide away, half-expecting Jesse to pull away and leave, but at least he'd gotten some of the words out. "If you don't wanna be there with us, I won't make you."

Jesse's stomach tightened as he looked at Ben. To be honest, he didn't want to go. Weddings usually involved God and eternity and other uncomfortable things. But what he really wanted was to see the two of them happy.

"Of course I'm coming," he said, nuzzling Ben's neck. "And please tell me you're wearing a tux."

"We're gonna be outside," Ben complained. "It's going to be cold. The hell would I wear a tux for?"

"Then wear a parka," Jesse teased. "And have the tux on underneath. It'll be fun to unwrap that."

The heat that hit Ben the third time was very different than the last two, causing him to squirm slightly. It was only after he took a moment to process it that he realized Jesse was inviting himself to the 'after party.' A strange mix of emotions flashed through him, but he shoved them down.

"I haven't seen a wedding dress," he pointed out. "So unless she wants to go that way, I'll probably just wear my good suit." He brought one hand up over Jesse's shoulder to rub his face. It was such a strange thing to be talking about.

"Or you could wear a coat and nothing else. That'd probably be a wedding first," he said, grinning before he stood up, heading towards the bathroom door. "Any drink requests, Claire?" She was sitting on her hip on the floor in front of the john, hair messily bunched in a knot behind her neck, and her brow resting heavily on her forearm.

"Diet Pepsi," she breathed, as if it was a surprise at that point. For some reason, that particular brand of soda had been the only thing, liquid or solid, she could keep down for the last month.

With a slight smile, Jesse headed to the fridge to grant her request. Ben watched him for a minute longer, his lips pressed in a faint frown before he turned to lift up his laptop lid again. 

* * *

><p>Jesse had gone off to see Ruth and the other Nephilim, and it was just him and Claire again. At the beginning of Claire's pregnancy, Ben couldn't help but secretly love the alone time with her. However, when her morning sickness started, things changed a bit. Mostly it was used just as down time, to rest or sleep. Knowing she was especially exhausted after finally getting in touch with Kat the day before, Ben drew her a bath, taking special care not to include any heavy scents. It was a little saddening, in all truth: she'd stopped using her jasmine soap, something he'd always loved from the first day they'd started traveling together. The artificial scent of it was just a bit too strong, but she didn't mind the jasmine green tea that had come in the hotel's courtesy box so, hoping for a nice effect, he dropped the last remaining bags in with the running water. Once it was done, he lit up a few white tea lights, then moved to where she was dozing on the bed.<p>

Last night had been especially hard on her. After the nausea first manifested around her tenth week, Claire stopped wondering the term 'morning sickness' aloud, when the time of day seemed to have no effect whatsoever. Three, sometimes four times a day at this point. Last night had been seven, and the unmistakable gnawing of hunger was pulling her out of sleep, just as Ben eased onto the bed beside her.

First thing she did was flick the hair out of her eyes. The second was a sleepy attempt to prop up by her elbows, and reach for the hard peppermint candies waiting on the bedside table, right next to the prenatal vitamins that had added almost an inch to her hair in the last three months. "Jess leave already?"

Ben hummed in affirmation, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "Ran you a bath. What d'you want for breakfast?" Claire's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"A bath?" The way she asked made it sound like Ben had just bought her a six bedroom house with a pool. She popped the mint out of its plastic and held it up for display before dropping it on her tongue, speaking around it. "S'is good for now."

Ben half-smiled in response, rolling sideways out of the bed until he was standing before grabbing her playfully at the ankles, dragging her three inches down. She laughed lightly, rolling the candy from one cheek to the other. "In a hurry to get me outta bed?" she said playfully, but sleep and exhaustion were still heavy in her voice.

"No hurry," he answered, leaning down to brush his lips over her knee cap before sliding his arms beneath her. With only a preemptive inhale to clue her in on what he was about to do, he lifted her up, tucking her frame against his chest. "Just looking for the optimum response."

Despite the change in equilibrium not particularly agreeing with her, the bloom of warmth under Claire's face counteracted it nicely. Her hands found a natural place latched around his shoulder, her soft smile grazed the stubble on his throat as she nuzzled in close. There were still a few things that were just subtle enough not to throw her system for a loop, and thank god the shaving cream both Ben and Jesse used was one of them. It had become a comfort-smell for her, as much as peppermint had. Actually, a lot more. It took all of five of Ben's long strides to get them into the semi-dark bathroom, which darkened further when he pressed the door closed with his shoulder.

Sensing the odd change in light, Claire opened her eyes. They adjusted quickly to the oily flicker of the tiny line of unscented candles, shimmering on the tea-darkened water, all of it reflected by the bathroom mirror. Ben had wanted an optimum response—now she knew what he was waiting for.

"Aw, _baby_..." she brought her eyes up to his. They also reflected the candles. Her heart did a little flip. He smiled, slow and proudly at her reaction, before leaning in long enough to brush his lips against hers. He came to sit on the covered toilet, setting her astride his lap so he could help her peel her borrowed nightshirt off.

"You gonna join me?" she asked softly after sweeping her hair out of her face, then laced their fingers together. Claire rested her brow against his, her eyes closed again. "We could stay for an hour, then spend the rest of the day in bed watching Christmas Story."

Ben typically avoided the bathtub for any amount of actual washing, given his gangly height, but her voice in that tone and timber was enough to drain any real argument out of him. He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled as she rubbed the moisture away, like always.

"Sounds like a good day in my book," he replied. "G'head and sink in, I'll be right behind you."

Ten minutes later, and the two of them had barely disturbed the water. Claire had her eyes closed, leaning back against Ben's chest with her knees lightly pulled up. She was half hypnotized by the deep rhythm of his breathing, kept awake only by the occasional press of his lips on her temple, or the brush of stubble on her cheek.

"I had a thought last night," he murmured, his hands moving from the side of the tub to rest on her arms.

She replied sleepily, "What's that...?"

Ben adjusted himself slightly, and the sound of the water sloshing seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. "He doesn't want to do the 'in front of God and the world' thing. What if we do something... more private, for him?"

Claire went quiet as she considered the possibility. It sounded ideal, from what she knew of Jesse; her plan had just been to let him become comfortable with the idea on his own terms. She was patient, confident that it would eventually click in the other man's mind that she and Ben weren't going anywhere. But the whole conversation last night...

Turning a slow look up at Ben, her lips pressed and her brows pushed high. Optimism at it's sleepiest. "I think it's just what he needs," _and you_ she added silently in her head. It didn't need to be said. Ben kissed her faintly, moving a hand up to sweep the damp flyaways away from her forehead.

"I just don't want him thinkin' I'm trying to twist his arm," he added, his voice soft with paranoia. "Everything he said just..."

"Just doesn't fit with what you and I grew up with?" she finished his sentence with a touch of gentle reminder in her voice. "He's had no form of structure for most of his life, babe. He's wired a bit different, that's all." She shifted on his chest, only enough to stretch her legs out a bit, so her unpainted toes peeked out the other end. "Best way to go about it is just reinforce that we're not going anywhere." Ben nodded in response, his lips still pressed in a frown as he resettled against her weight.

"I'll try and dig up something online later," he said at last, with a note of finality to his words. He still had his own vows to worry about. 

* * *

><p>It always took Jesse about an hour to get to the front door. This wasn't because he popped up very far from the old army administration building. It was the three hundred Nephilim running at him like a joy-filled mob. He then had to say hello to each and every one, and they certainly let him know if he'd missed them. He tried to be irritated at being squashed once a week, but he never could keep the smile off his face as he was overtaken by a wave of love and excitement.<p>

Once he'd greeted them all and told them to head back to what they were doing, he would finally reach Ruth at the door and give her a hug. There was something deeper, richer about the emotions pouring from her, and he always relished in it.

"So how's this week been?" he asked as they headed to the makeshift parlor.

"We were able to do the first harvest from the new greenhouse," Ruth answered, settling in the chair facing the door and running one hand through her hair. "The younger ones were very excited about that. It's a wonder all the food wasn't eaten at once, but I think we've got at least two week's worth of meals from that alone." Her brow furrowed as she tried to sort through the more noteworthy details of the week, several of which flashed through the undercurrent of her thoughts in rapid succession and all of which were thoroughly weaved in with her deep-seated need to make him proud.

"Lessons are going well... Oh, and I think we're running out of storage space on the entertainment hard-drive. I'm going to need to start backing up everything on inserts."

"Wow, really? Okay. Guess it can get pretty boring out here," he added with a smile. He considered the sofas before laying out on the rug, his hands behind his head. "How are you holding up? Are they driving you crazy?"

Her eyes followed him with an unmistakable keenness, the air around her warming considerably but her thoughts a lot less pulsing than they had once been. She had been practicing, knowing that the rush of untrained minds sometimes exhausted him, but there was still a deep thrumming of baser instinct that couldn't be tamed.

"It's..." she started, before licking her lips and trying again. "It's getting easier. I've... had to put a lot of the same structure back into place, just to keep order." [ _So much easier if you were just here more they always focus better when they know the results please you always want to please you always anything you want—_ ] She closed her eyes with a wince, then took a breath. "Sorry."

He tilted his head at her. [ _It's okay._ ] "I wish I could be here more, too." There was very little truth in that. He enjoyed visiting, and there was a certain amount of satisfaction watching the Nephilim grow into something more like real people over the past three months. The truth was, though, he'd much rather stay in his quiet, secluded world with Ben and Claire. Even if the weather was much nicer here. And even when there was a certain amount of tension.

Laying his head back, he absently traced the rug's pattern. "Ben and Claire are getting married in a few days." Then, after a beat, "Do you know what marriage is?"

Ruth rolled her lips silently, her brows furrowing as a complicated twist of concern and apprehension flitted through the air between them. "Only from what I've seen through the allowed content in here. Like you said," she added with a wry sort of smile. "It's just stories. It isn't completely real. I have to remind the younger ones that often."

Jesse cocked a grin at her. She really was smart, and a fast learner. He was lucky she was there for him. "Yeah. I'm not entirely sure if it _is_ real. People get married, but it seems more like an idea rather than an actual thing."

"Ideas are powerful," she said quietly, still watching him. "If anyone knows that, we do. Ideas change things if they're strong enough and enough people believe in them."

"Good point," he said, raising his eyebrows. "This is why I like talking with you, Ruth. You're smart without trying to push it onto people."

Her eyes dropped down to her lap as a blush overtook her face, love and adoration pouring out of her. One slim hand came up to push her hair behind her ear. "Thank you." She took a slow breath and let it out before speaking. "How do you feel? About their getting married?"

He bit his lip, staring at a crack in the ceiling. "It's kind of strange. But I'm okay with it, and it makes them happy. Only thing is, I think they want to marry me, too, especially Ben. And I'm not sure if it's really selfish of me to say no, when I know it would make them happy."

"Shouldn't just be them or you," Ruth said slowly. "It should be all of you, shouldn't it? You should all want the same things, or at least most of the same things. That's the feeling I've been getting."

Jesse's insides gave an almighty wrench and his expression tightened. "But we're different people. We're not always going to agree. And that's okay. Isn't it?"

She slid down onto the ground and was by his side in an instant, her hand grazing over the top of his before she was able to stop herself. A rush of wordless longing twisted around her, nearly palpable in spite of the schooled neutrality on her face. "Of course it is," she said. "You should do what feels right. They'll understand that if they love you."

He looked over at her a moment before giving her arm a squeeze. "Thanks. You're right. I shouldn't be worrying about it." Staring at the ceiling, his calm expression suddenly tightened. "Shit. Should I get them a gift?"

Ruth gave him a weak smile. "You're really asking the wrong person, Jess." [ _You being there is enough of a gift wish you could see that can't understand why you hate yourself so much you're so—_ ] "I wouldn't even know what to get them, and with the way we work—" [ _So much easier to just take want to take want to give anything you want everything you want_ ] "—it's sort of... I don't know. Too easy?"

He sat up, leaning back on his hands. "Except it's not, y'know. Well, I guess it's easy, but it's so much better to get something from someone simply because they _want_ to give it to you. Because they thought about it, and cared enough about you to get it." He paused. "I'm going to have to get them something."

Ruth bowed her head, clearly unsure what else to say as she worried her lower lip between her teeth. Watching her thoughtfully, he finally said, "Anyone in particular giving you trouble? I could have a talk with them."

Her head shook. "I can handle it," she said softly. "Though..." her lips twisted up slightly. "You know they wouldn't swarm you so much if you told them to be calm." [ _But seeing your reaction to how much they love you makes it so worth it._]

Heat rose to his face and he drew circles against the rug. "It's probably bad that I like it. But it's good for them, too. Emotion is part of being human."

She nodded in understanding, though her lower lip once again slid between her teeth. "Did you... want to go for a walk, maybe?"

He tilted his head and shrugged. "Sure." Pushing to his feet, he reached out a hand to help her up. The smile she gave him in response was nothing short of radiant, and even after she was on her feet again she wasn't quick to let go. 

* * *

><p>"No, it's way too short," Kat said with a frown. "I know you haven't been up here during the winter in a while, but that's a recipe for frostbite."<p>

"Maybe, but I'm not exactly a 'train' kinda girl," Claire retorted with a light snicker, flicking the lace hem of the A-line dress she wore with a few fingertips. The image in the mirror was almost surreal, even if it was Claire's own face. "Tell you the truth, I would've been happy wearing jeans 'til I saw Ben de-linting his suit."

"Shaggy owns a suit?" Kat retorted with raised eyebrows. "Color me shocked." Claire shot her old friend a side-long look, smirk in place.

"He's more versatile than you give him credit for." Claire grabbed the second dress hanging on the hook and slipped back into the dressing room.

"I think his versatility is exactly what got you into trouble, little miss," Kat said through the door at a loud whisper.

"Explain," Claire replied with the driest sarcasm, her voice muffled by lace and knit. "Maybe that'll change things."

Though Claire couldn't see her, it was obvious that Kat was smirking. "I would, but there's a door in your way, so feel free to use your imagination and add in a few lines about being so big, et cetera." She was answered by a hard snort.

"Jesus, grow up."

"I've had three tequila sunrises. You're just gonna have to live with this version for another five hours." Her knuckles rapped on the door. "C'mon out and lemme see."

Claire tugged a little on the taffeta skirt of the second dress, shimmying it into place. It was much longer than the first, dusting the floor over her bare feet, with a wide off-white ribbon cinching her waist. "Girliest thing I've ever heard of you drinkin'. No wonder you wanted to go shopping," Claire teased, giving herself one last look before unlocking the door. "I actually like this one."

"I figured since this was actually happening, I better get in the..." Kat faded off as Claire slid out, her eyes softening considerably. "...mood. Oh, Claire. That's..."

Despite herself, Claire couldn't help but smile broadly at Kat's slightly floored expression. "I know." She looked from the older woman to the mirror, arranging her hair over the wide Greek style shoulder straps of the dress. It was comfortable, not pinching in on her sensitive midriff, and it even hid the scars. For someone who hadn't put much thought into what she'd be wearing, Claire was finding herself increasingly excited over what had just been tiny details—before she saw this dress.

"It's beautiful," Kat said in a hushed voice. "Claire, it's perfect." She grabbed the veil off the nearest display and slid it over her, just enough to give it the full effect. It was enough to bring misty tears to her eyes. "Look at you."

Claire ran her fingers down the scalloped lace edge of the veil, watching herself in the mirror. Kat's eyes weren't the only ones that softened and started to glisten; the two women shared that unmistakable bittersweet expression. Behind Claire's gaze was a suddenly very vivid memory of a scrawny toe-headed eight year old girl, wearing a white dress and a veil just like the one on her hair now. She smelled the thick twang of incense and cologne and coffee as if she were still standing behind the doors of the vestibule, watching her mother talk to one of her friends. The weight and warmth of her father's hand was still there.

_Whaddya think, Bub? You ready?_

Claire felt Kat take her hand, and something small and weighted settle in her palm. She blinked out of her memory, examining the tiny vial of water in her hand, a cross etched into its glass. A pendant? She shot Kat a quizzical look.

"Look at it again," Kat encouraged her, turning it up so that she could examine it a little more closely. There on the side that had been hidden was a tiny sapphire, the same color as her father's eyes.

"You've put more thought into this than I would've expected," Claire said, trying to be droll, but emotion softened her voice beyond her control.

"I'm waiting for Serah to come down with the last thing. She should be here by Wednesday," Kat replied. "You'll finally get to meet her."

Claire watched Kat's face, still so used to it being impenetrably sarcastic or determined—or furious—instead of this tender affection. The very few times she'd seen the raw humanity beneath never failed to cut her own shell, nice and deep.

"We'll share a Shirley Temple," she said, trying not to sniff as she curled an arm behind Kat's shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek. Kat gave her a warm smile in response, moving to help her clip the necklace into place.

"That's very special holy water," she said into Claire's ear. "From the Jordan in Egypt. Always nice to have a little reserve on you, hmm?"

"No kiddin'." Claire pulled back just a little, enough to look at the vial necklace again, though she was still leaning a bit into Kat. The older woman's arms tightened around her in a brief hug before finally giving her shoulders a squeeze.

"C'mon. Let's buy this sucker and go get some Chinese." 

* * *

><p>The smell of pizza still hung in the hotel room, despite Claire's attempt to open one of the windows to filter out that oily aroma of grease. Since Ben had stepped out after supper, the temperature outside had started to spiral. Claire had always liked the cold, but when snow started filtering in through the screen, it was time to cap it off and put on a sweater.<p>

Her thoughts were caught in a continuous tug-of-war between the two men in her life, more so in that moment, as she heard the GTO pull out of the parking lot with Ben behind the wheel. Maybe some alone time would help him sort the tangled chaos that was his head since they arrived Friday evening. Hopefully. There was only so much her reassuring seemed to do.

At least it gave her time to work on the other side of the spectrum. The cotton-soft brush of her sweater grazed the little spot of skin where his neck and t-shirt met, before being followed by her warm weight, and two arms curled around his shoulders. Jesse leaned back against her, his arms wrapping behind the chair to rest his hands on her waist.

"Fancy meeting you here," he teased, grinning.

"Yes, 'cause I normally don't spend a lot of time in hotels," she replied, smiling into his neck.

"No, of course not, that would just be boring. What's up? Relishing in the new eau de Jesse?" he said, tilting his head. She came back with a quick bite to his shoulder, warmed by a light laugh.

"Trust me, I'll let you know if it crosses into 'musk' territory." She squeezed him a little more, nosing into his dark hair.

"If it does, I'll have to start wearing plaid. And grow a beard. But not the patchy hipster. It'll be manly and bushy." As he spoke, his hands slid to her ass.

"Like the guy on the paper towels?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about, but yes. Only manlier."

Claire snorted, but continued to grin into Jesse's neck, shifting weight from one bare foot to the other. Her lips connected with his skin gently before she went on, her tone taking on a more velvet feel:

"So. I wanna talk to you about something."

His smile instantly stiffened. Nothing good had ever followed those words. "Okay, sure."

Sensing the sudden wave of anxiety like it had a temperature, Claire reacted automatically. "Nothin' bad, I promise," she reassured him with an honest smile, circling around to his front to slide into his lap. "Ben and I want to give you something."

Maybe if Ben were actually there, his anxiety would have ebbed. But he managed a smile. "Oh?"

"This marriage thing," she started, curling a hand between his shirt and the warm skin on his back. "I know you understand it's part of how he and I grew up; it's the way we know how to define and celebrate what we have—and I know exactly where you stand on it all..." she nudged his cheek with her nose, still smiling gently. "That's why, after the ceremony on Wednesday, we want to do the same for you. No guidelines, no rules. Just the three of us, promising everything we already know."

His eyes were a little wide as he looked at her, but he nodded. "Oh. Okay. But...I mean, do we have to prepare something or...?"

Claire just shook her head lightly. "It can be anything you want. If you want to write something, sing a song, do a dance..." her smile leaned a little, her tone airy, but still earnest. "Or _us_ to dance—or just go on the fly. You know we're just making these rules up as we go."

"Right," he said, though his stomach was still doing somersaults. "So, just... okay. And this is after?"

Claire watched him for a moment before nodding. Both he and Ben were normally easy to read, at least for her, but every once in a while a wrench would get thrown in the works, and her certainty on what they were thinking wasn't at a hundred percent. This week, it'd happened with both of them, and it was bordering on unnerving.

"Do you want this?" she asked, not a hint of animosity or negativity in her tone. Only pure honesty was in her voice, and eyes.

Jesse swallowed. "It's not— I wasn't expecting it. That's all. It's not bad. Just sudden. But yeah, I—we can do it."

The words _'just sudden'_ stuck out in her head more than the others, at least enough to turn up the corners of her mouth in a subtle way. Claire dipped down to kiss him, slow and warm, her hand on his cheek. It _was_ sudden, in many ways, and she didn't blame his anxiety. A lot had been put in perspective for Claire in the last year, however, and the phrase 'life is short' always hovered close to her thoughts and decisions. She didn't say anything to that affect, though.

"You know you can tell me anything," she reminded him, pulling back a bit.

He nodded, nuzzling against her. "Don't know if there is anything to tell. Kind of taking it in right now." Claire pulled him in closer, nodding against his temple while stroking through his hair. It was a good, long pause before she kissed the side of his brow and whispered against it in the same hushed voice.

"That's what she said." 

* * *

><p>It had taken nearly four hours, but Ben had finally gotten the words right. He'd read it silently, then out loud, his eyes screwed tightly shut as he listened to the sound of his voice as he said them. Of course, he knew when it came down to it, Claire wouldn't even care if he'd just stuck to the classic stuff, but he didn't want to go with the flow in any of this. He wanted every part of it to be imbibed with meaning. Nothing about what they were doing held any real permanence in the world but at the same time, the world of permanence wasn't one they actively participated in. It was a complicated dance of meaning and need to satisfy.<p>

Ben just wished Jesse could find it in him to understand that.

Computer packed up and coffee drank, Ben finally made it back to the extended stay hotel, though he didn't make a real effort to leave the parked GTO straight away. He could imagine they were probably having alone time, and he didn't want to interrupt. Before it had been different, back when things had been a little less complicated and Ben knew that it had always been one of Jesse's secret fantasies to be discovered and watched. Now... it just felt invasive. Part of him hated the sense of change, but it had come out of nowhere and settled deep in his chest, refusing to be taken out. Everything was different now, and there was no getting back that early fluttering feeling. Best to soldier on and barrel through it.

From the frostbitten window of their room, Claire sat wrapped in the plush beige blanket that came in the extra linen closet, watching the familiar pair of headlights go off in the flurry snow. Jesse was sleeping; by now, she could tell the difference between the act and the real thing, due to the drag of breath deep in his chest that was impossible to fake.

The longer the car door remained closed, the stronger the hot feeling at the back of her throat. He was deliberately not coming in, for whatever the reason, and the same intuition regarding Ben that had been strangling her for the last three days told her he wasn't just on a phone call.

Another five minutes went by before she dropped the blanket, slipped into her treaded winter boots, and pushed her arms into her coat. In moments, she was easing the room door closed and trotting, bundled, toward the GTO.

Conditioned by years of paranoia and an oversensitive drive to always be aware of his surroundings, Ben's head immediately turned in the direction of the approaching body, his hand automatically twitching towards his gun before he realized who it was. With a sigh he slumped forward, head resting against his arms on the steering wheel as he waited.

Claire slipped through the passenger door with a blast of cold, and shut it quickly behind her, watching Ben from behind pale fly-aways flecked by snow. The tense position he was in did nothing to settle her nerves, but it wasn't like she expected any different. What really twisted in her stomach, and had been growing like a cancer, was the fact that she had no idea of its true cause.

"What'd he say?" Ben asked quietly, not sure what else to talk about.

"He wants to," she answered in the same tone. "He was surprised. Like he never expected us to ask."

Ben's head turned at her response, his eyes widening slightly before going a little cloudy as his heart started to ache. _All we've gone through together, and he still doesn't believe in us_, he thought, the realization both troubling and heartbreaking.

"Oh."

Claire just stared at him, her eyes suddenly watery.

"_Oh_? He _wants to_, Ben. And your reaction is a disheartened '_Oh_'?"

Ben winced, his eyes closing as he settled his forehead on his arms again. "I just don't—" he started, then felt his chest hitch. "I don't get him. Every time I think I'm starting to, I hit a dead end."

Claire bit back the urge to slip her hand into his, to brush back his hair, or touch him in any other way. She _wanted_ to, her first instinct being to shelter and comfort him, but a second guess told her to stay still. Sometimes it was easier venting when there was nothing there to distract. And _God_, she needed him to spill whatever this was, for his own sanity as well as the rest of them.

She rolled her lips and forced a slow breath, looking vaguely out the windshield before turning back to him. "What about him don't you understand?"

"Honestly?" Ben said in a muffled voice. "Everything. I mean it's... fuck, I don't even know how to say it. I know I've said and done some shit to make him question my motives in a lot of things, but I've always gone back and tried to fix them. I've always tried to make sure he knew that I trusted him, that I wanted him here, that I _needed_ him here. I even..." he swallowed hard. "I even held back doing anything with you for his sake. But sometimes it's like... it feels like he's replacing me, and I have to fight to keep from being phased out."

Claire watched with furrowed brows, the sickness in her stomach soured by the pain in his voice, even more so by what it described.

"Replacing you _how_?" she asked, keeping her voice even, and quiet. He gave a weak shrug.

"He's a better hunter than I am," he said in a small voice. "He's better at _everything_ than I am, and it isn't fair, and it's like..." He gave a bitter laugh. "He just had to one-up me. I wanted to marry you, but he just had to speak up and..." Another bitter laugh, the words fading off. Ben couldn't bring himself to say it. Deep down, he knew she knew, and the last thing he wanted was to give her any reason to feel angry toward him. "I just... it's... I just don't know, Claire."

This time, Claire didn't fight the urge to touch him. Though gentle, her hand slipped out from her pocket, curling under his elbow to get to his hand. She laced their fingers, and warmed his with her other palm.

"Look at me, baby."

Even with her gentle tone, Ben couldn't stop the fearful rise in his chest as he brought his hazel eyes to her blue ones. Her expression was already soft, but lost something with the sheer ache in his gaze.

"You remember what I told you back in Lawrence?"

He gave her a weak, slightly depreciating smile. "Lotsa stuff that night," he admitted, feeling ashamed for not being able to pick out what she was referring to.

"Right before Jesse left to help his mom." Claire paused to breathe past the knot that had formed in her throat. "How he idolizes you... do you remember?" Ben nodded, though his brow furrowed a bit as he tried to figure out where she was going.

The flare of confusion in his eyes made that knot heavier. She had to wonder if he'd completely blown off everything she said that morning, or if she was completely misunderstanding his current anxiety.

"Jesse is not replacing you. He's not better than you, nor is he trying to be. And he is not one-upping you—_especially_ when it comes to me." Claire's jaw set, tightening her words uncomfortably. "Everything he does, he does in hopes of making you proud of him. He's changed his whole life to be like you, and most of it has been - and continues to be - terrifying to him." That last bit carried a lot more meaning than the specifics neither one of them were saying out loud. "_You_ make him happy," she added, feeling a very real sting in her center with that admission. "He just wants to do the same."

Ben turned his gaze away from her and down to the floor, chewing his lips so hard he could feel the skin start to crack. "Hard to believe that when he won't even talk to me," Ben said in a tight voice. "Only time he ever talks to me is to yell at me. It's only fighting and f— physical with him." His other hand came up to pull hard through his hair, though he didn't let go of her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm not... I'm not trying to make you play the mediator here. It's not even—" he gave a frustrated noise. "I don't even know why it matters so much, but it does. And I..." The hand that had pulled through his hair moved to his face and he pressed the heel into his eye.

"You think I'd just sit back and let _anyone_ treat you like that?" she asked genuinely, at first hoping that the deeper meaning would sink in. On second thought, though, elaboration seemed the wiser path this time. "If it was all fighting outside the physical, he wouldn't be here. I think you're just concentrating on those parts because they stick out easier."

Ben gave a low, wet laugh, his shoulders giving a shake. "This is why I didn't hook up with anybody when I picked up the business until I met you."

Claire's lips rolled into themselves, knowing full well what he meant. For the first time, her eyes dropped to the seat between them. "Lot more baggage." _And so much of it left behind_.

"Dad always said," Ben continued in the same wet voice. "He said it's the kind of work where when you let your heart rule you, it'll run you into the ground. He's right. And it's hard enough with just two, but with three..." He took a breath, then let it out shakily. "Aside from that month with Izzy, it feels like we haven't even had a real chance to just be."

Claire stayed quiet, listening to every word, and feeling each one tug on the chain around her heart. The whole time she'd been in the car, her free hand had been across her middle, but only right then did she become acutely aware of it—a powerful instinct she'd developed early. _Try it on my end_, she heard her own voice in her head, but said nothing. Only moved her thumb back and forth over her sweater, and tried to work up the will to lift her eyes.

"Sometimes the hardest things to see are right in front of us," she finally uttered, then remembered to add more than sayings worthy of Confucius. "I see what you do for Jesse, and I see what he does for you. You both just need to be more observant; look under the layers." She couldn't help but zero in on Dean's words conveyed by Ben for the second time in a single thought. It _was_ hard, and her position in it all had her feeling especially exhausted. But, like the sick feeling that was slowly gaining strength under her hand, it all had a purpose Claire had put her faith into.

Ben let out a breath, then weakly nodded. He couldn't argue that fact with her; on more than one occasion, he'd said or done something without really giving it the proper amount of thought.

"What do I do for you?" he asked quietly, hoping to turn the conversation into something lighter and more fulfilling.

Now Claire looked up through her lashes, though her head was still slightly bowed. While her expression had warmed, there was still a heaviness in her eyes that she was slowly trying to push away. Her grip on his hand squeezed.

"You understand me, you connect with me on a level that I didn't think was possible." She gave him a small, but genuine smile. "You gave my life more purpose than just sacrifice." Her hand squeezed again, this time not easing up all the way. "You make me better."

Ben sat up, pulling their joined hands upward so he could kiss the back of hers and brush it against his cheek. He felt a lifting in his chest at her words, which filled him and reminded him just why he'd asked her to marry him in the first place.

"Get out of my head," he said lightly, giving her a faint smile. She smiled back softly, lifting one finger to bush his stubbly cheek while it was close.

"I love you," Claire whispered, then let her eyes drop behind their lids. "Jess loves you just as much. He's got the same fears that come with it. Just remember that."

"I'll try," he answered before leaning in to kiss her. Claire's eyes closed when their lips met, feeling her chest constrict.

"Try one more thing for me?" she added, soft as cotton, but with all the seriousness in the world. "Try to be excited instead of giving yourself an ulcer. We got enough on our plates to be worried about."

Ben gave a weak laugh, staying close as he kissed her again. "I just want it to be as close to perfect as possible. Not like we can do it over, right?"

"_You_ are what makes this perfect for me," Claire reminded him, pulling back only enough so she could focus on his eyes. "And _you_ are the only thing I'm worried about right now. If I'm happy, you're happy, right? Well it works the other way around, too."

His face pinched a little at her response. "I'm... okay. I'll just— I've got the hard part done. Now it's just the matter of waiting 'til Wednesday."

Claire's smile faded back onto her lips, and she kissed the corner of his mouth. "I know what you've been putting into this, and I know how crazy it's been," she whispered, again trying to lift more weight from his gaze. If she were honest, she was trying to do the same for herself. "It's a lot to handle; things can get missed. You and Jess'll get on the same page, and after Wednesday, we'll head somewhere warm... to just _be_ for a while."

Ben's smile lengthened a little. "I think I can get behind that." 

* * *

><p>He'd felt both better and worse after his conversation with Claire; it was obvious that his unhappiness had been bothering her, and that had never been his intention, but at least everything was out in the open now and reassurances had been made. But over the next few days, Ben had gotten next to no sleep. It was obvious from the dark circles that had settled under his eyes, and the way he'd gotten quieter and quieter as the days passed. His suit had been made ready, pressed clean and hanging in the small closet of their hotel; he'd finally written vows that didn't completely suck, for all that he'd had nobody to really bounce them off of; the ring had been sitting in the bottom of his bag for weeks now, purchased on poker winnings and pool — he'd refused Jesse's help in that — but there still was no fighting off the bone-deep paranoia that somehow, something would go wrong. The only way he knew he was going to get any sleep was to go for a run, but with the weather as chilly as it was, he had absolutely no desire to go outside. He did, however, remember walking past the little gym the hotel had to offer and seeing a treadmill.<p>

Jesse still lounged in bed, watching as Ben got dressed. Claire had gotten up long ago, had her morning vomit and hopped in the bath. Jesse had hoped for a little quiet time with Ben; his visits to the Nephilim and Ben's flighty drives hadn't given them some time alone for a while. Of course it looked like Ben had others plans, again.

"Where you headed?"

"Thought a run might kick the insomnia a bit," he answered in a tired voice, though the moment the question was asked he knew that he was about to be delayed.

"Oh." And then Jesse said something he'd never said in reference to an early morning run before: "I could come with."

Ben blinked at him in surprise. "Uh, sure. Yeah. I mean, I'm not going out in the cold, 'cuz that's crazy. There's treadmills. In the gym downstairs, I mean." His eyes moved to the closed door of the bathroom. They hadn't really left Claire on her own in weeks, save for her brief moments with Kat since their arrival. One of them had always been with her at all times. "Lemme just ward up the room real quick."

Jesse's eyes followed his, his stomach sinking. "If you'd prefer I stay with her, I'll stay. I didn't really think about that."

Ben shook his head. "No, it's—... it's fine. She's not glass. But I do wanna ward up the room."

Licking his lips, Jesse nodded before crawling out of bed and going to his drawer for workout clothes. Ben warded the place up while he dressed and they were done around the same time.

"Just a sec," Ben said, grabbing up the little notepad and leaving a quick explanation on where they were before leaving it on a chair put in the path of the bathroom door. "G'head, I'm right behind you."

Jesse waited in the hall while Ben warded the door. They headed down the stairs in silence, though inside Jesse's head nattered away nonstop. Just everything sounded too stupid to say. When they finally got to the gym room, it was empty, and the only sound was the radio music piped in through the overhead speaker. Ben immediately crossed over to the interface to change the channel, though not before making a face at the last person's taste in music.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he turned around, immediately starting to limber up.

"Should be asking you that question, Mr. Insomnia." He smiled, rolling his shoulders.

"Nerves, is all," Ben answered easily, his smile once again depreciating. "Hard to sleep when my brain won't shut the hell up."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Jesse said with a breath of a laugh. He leaned over, touching his toes and holding them for a few counts.

Ben thought back briefly to Claire, still up in the bathtub, and wondered if she'd gotten to talking to Jesse about the fears he'd had. It would certainly explain the sudden desire the other man had to coming with him. _Or maybe I'm just reading into shit and need to be more observant,_ he reminded himself.

"Oh yeah?" Ben prompted, finally moving over to the treadmill and stepping onto it.

Jesse felt the heat rise to his face. "Oh, just, in general." He hopped onto the nearby stationary bike.

Ben was silent for a moment as he set the presets. "Look," he said, still breathing slowly and normally as he moved into a fast warm-up walk. "I know you didn't just come with me to small-talk. Whatever you need to say or wanna say, you can say it. I'm not gonna fight with you this early in the morning."

His foot nearly slipping of the pedal, Jesse's face turned even redder. "I didn't...really have something in mind. I just wanted to be with you. Haven't seen you as much."

Embarrassment flooded Ben and his head ducked as a heat rush moved through him with Jesse's words. _See? Reading into shit,_ his subconscience pointed out. For a moment he seriously considered getting off the treadmill and moving over to kiss him, but the treadmill picked up and wiped the thought out of his head. _Talking is fine. Hell even not-talking is fine. Just be for a bit, or give him the option to make the first move, you freaking caveman._

"Good," he muttered lamely. "Cool. Bonus: you'll be able to help drag me upstairs when I lose all motivation to walk."

The tension eased out of him at that and Jesse smiled, cycling faster. "Yeah, I always have to carry your ass everywhere."

"He says as though he doesn't like it," Ben countered in a fake grumble, deliberately shoving down the immediate flash of unhappiness at Jesse's word choice.

Jesse grinned but concentrated on peddling for a bit. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ridden a real bicycle, forget about a fake one. It was pulling strange at his leg muscles.

"So, two days left. Pretty good, huh?" he said, looking over. Ben was in a full run by that point, his feet hitting the treadmill in a thudding but steady rhythm.

"Kinda wish my mom was here," Ben answered honestly, his voice heavy with breath. "But I'm kinda scared to invite her."

Jesse scowled in sympathy. "If... I mean, I could find a way, probably, so demons wouldn't know."

Ben looked over at Jesse briefly, flashing him a small smile before looking ahead again. "Nah, it's fine. I mean, I could probably make up a gris-gris bag for her if I wanted, but then if mom knows then she's gonna get ideas in her head and no doubt Krys'll wanna come and I... I just want this to be a small thing, you know? I never really... thought this would happen to me."

"I'll bet," Jesse said with a small snort. "What would she get ideas about?"

"Only son getting married, blah blah," Ben huffed out. "Trust me, there's ideas. I don't know what they are, but I'm sure they're still there in spite of the fact that until this last year I was single."

"Ah. You mean about quitting all this or something?"

Ben blinked. "Wh—" then the implication hit him, and his stomach did a weird sort of flop. "Oh. Yeah. She— yeah, she'd probably think I'd stop. Want me to move down the street, get a house, have kids. Not saying that's not possible, it's just..." He hit the cancel button on the treadmill, letting it slowly come to a stop before stepping off. "Not... what I see happening."

Jesse slowed down but didn't stop, his expression serious. "What do you see happening? With Claire getting bigger, and then having a baby. What are we going to do?"

Ben moved into a crouch, his legs twitching hard as he caught his breath.

"I don't know," he said after a moment. "It's not gonna be easy, and I don't... think we should be trucking the kid around for a while, when it happens. We'll need a break."

"Yeah. Especially Claire. Maybe we could get someplace near Ruth's?" Even Jesse didn't feel all that certain saying it. "I could help out more."

"You're gonna have to, man," Ben said quietly. "It's your kid."

Jesse's throat seized up a moment and he stopped pedaling. He finally managed, "I meant help Ruth more. She's been having trouble. Of course I'm helping with... with the kid."

Ben winced, then ran a hand through his hair. The drag was oily, but he ignored it. His first instinct was to say something about how the Nephilim wasn't their problem anymore, that they needed to take care of Claire, but he bit it back. That would undoubtedly start an argument.

"These are things we should talk about together," he said after a moment. "It's not just our decision to make."

"I wasn't saying we had to decide right now," Jesse said quickly. "Just, y'know, something to think about." And so much for what he wanted to say next. Wiping sweat from his upper lip, he got off the bike. Ben watched him silently, his brow furrowed at Jesse's answer. Tiredness had started to burn in, but he still wasn't quite there yet; especially not when he could see the thoughts churning behind his partner's eyes.

"Keep talkin'," he said, hoping to press more words out of him.

Jesse walked over, giving him a quick kiss. "You're right. It's the kind of stuff we should plan with Claire. After Wednesday."

Ben caught his hand before he managed to get too far away, pulling him down to sitting in front of him. "You just tryin' to give me more crap to turn over in my head?" he asked, his tone light to show he wasn't being accusing.

With a lop-sided smile, Jesse shook his head. "Trying not to, really. It's just..." He bit his lip. "Every time Claire takes off her shirt and I see that little swell, I feel panicked. Like there's not enough time and there's no way this'll turn out alright." He couldn't look at Ben as he added, "I still wish she'd consider my first suggestion."

Ben felt his heart stutter painfully in his chest, turning Jesse's hand over and holding it in both of his.

"That kid is part of her, too," he said quietly. "And that's not a part she's willing to give up for anybody's sake. Claire's not stupid; if she hadn't wanted this kid, she never would've put herself in the path for it to have happened in the first place. You didn't _do_ this to her. And I know you're not ready, but you've got six months to get ready, because it's gonna happen. No stopping it now."

His hand tightening around Ben's, Jesse nodded. _It's gonna happen, it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen._ He swallowed. "Don't suppose you have any advice on how to be a dad?"

Ben gave a weak laugh, then shook his head. "Far as I can tell, it's different for every kid. What worked for me isn't gonna work for this one. All I know is I'm gonna keep that kid safe, no matter what. If that means letting someone else save the world for a while, I'll do it."

"Good. Yeah, that would definitely be good," Jesse said, meeting his eyes again. His expression softened. "You're going to be a good dad."

Ben felt a strange twist in his stomach at the compliment, sliding his hands away from Jesse's to pull him closer at the shoulders and into an embrace.

"So will you," he said into Jesse's hairline.

His stomach still clenched at the thought, but Jesse pushed it aside, pressing into Ben's arms. The hug was a little damp, but warm, and Jesse melted into it. He was silent, hoping to draw it out.

"Y'know I love you, right?" Ben murmured, his embrace tightening a little.

Sliding an arm around him, Jesse squeezed back. "Of course I do. I love you, too." 

* * *

><p>Claire's expression was tight with a mild anxiety she wasn't even trying to mask, her phone tucked between her ear and shoulder as her hands attempted to maneuver through her favorite sweater—the pale blue one with the stretched out sleeves.<br>"No no, don't worry about it," she said into the device, disappearing in the shirt for a moment, popping her head through before continuing. "Let me call you back in a bit—I'll let you know then?" A distant voice tinned from the phone as Claire swept her hair out of the hem. "Right, before three. Thanks, Father."

Giving a slightly long breath, Claire dropped the phone to her palm and hit the cancel button. Ben, his eyes still a bit red from being awoken earlier than he would have liked, met her gaze with a frown.

"What's up?"

Claire was still looking at the phone in her hand. "We have to reschedule the ceremony," she said wearily, but not with the whine typical of a bride with a wrench in her plans. This was an older, more recognizable worry, one that was clear in her eyes. "Father has a memorial tomorrow... some kid froze to death last night."

Ben blinked in surprise. "How's that even work? I'd have thought the people around here had a bit more sense than to let that happen."

Claire just shook her head lightly, the negative equivalent to a shrug. "Apparently it happens a lot more than normal." She met his eyes pointedly on that statement, setting down her phone.

Her answer only seemed to confuse him more. "Wait, so this... this happens often around here? And nobody's tried to do anything about it?" She crossed the room and settled on Jesse's side of the bed, still mussed from when he got up for the food run he hadn't returned from yet.

"College town, lots of idiots go get drunk, try to walk home in a blizzard." She could understand the reasoning, but still. Call it conditioning: all of them were simply used to things going down in much different ways.

Ben stood, moving to the window. "But it isn't even snowing—" His hand swept the curtain aside but as he did, his words faded off. There, on the ground, was at least two feet of snow. His eyes widened. "Hang on. That's—... but the weather report said that it was going to be overcast all week."

Claire had followed his expression with unrelenting eyes. Finally the pull was too much, and she joined him at the window, staring, squinting at the blinding snow.

"We're in _southern_ Illinois, right?"

"Last I checked," Ben muttered with a deepening frown. "Jess went out in this and didn't even say anything?"

"I doubt he thinks it's unusual," Claire answered distractedly, turning toward the table. Her ultimate goal was her laptop, which she opened and turned on. Ben grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it next to her, sliding his hand absently to rest on her knee.

"Maybe he just zapped somewhere," he mumbled distractedly. Claire didn't respond verbally, only naturally gravitated closer to him while pulling up the Carbondale police department's website to do a little hacking.

"So what do you wanna do about the ceremony?" she asked, her eyes still on the screen as her fingers traipsed over the keys. Barely ten seconds of looking pointed her toward the coroner's preferred software provider. In five minutes, she'd have a list of passwords and employee numbers.

Ben worried his lower lip between his teeth, frowning as he watched the screen, halfway tempted to get up and grab his notebook to start writing things down in.

"Can't exactly go to the outdoor chapel now, with snow up to our knees," he said.

"Kat's staying at some lodge in the woods," Claire hushed back after a moment, her attention split between the conversation and the screen. However, most of it was on their words, since the crack-coding was basic memory for her, at this point. "Supposed to be pretty." Then, she laughed a little dimly. "_Great_ fried chicken."

His eyes finally turned to her, watching the faint light from the laptop screen reflecting in her eyes. She'd gained a little more fullness to her cheeks with her pregnancy, along with some suppleness to the curves he'd already grown to love so well. In that moment, he understood a little bit better why Jesse was so afraid.

"If this is just a freak blizzard," Ben said slowly, "then we'll pick up at the lodge and go from there, if you're okay with that. But I don't think we should go rushing through this if it turns out there's something that needs looking into, you know? Better that we have a few days to soak all this in than for it to get interrupted with a hunt."

Claire's fingers stopped moving on the keyboard, and she was looking at him softly. Though she wasn't positive why her answer was delayed, she did agree. She leaned in, kissing the side of his mouth. "Works for me."

"Keep working on this," he said, kissing her again. "I'm gonna look into past cases through the newspaper's interface, see if there's any more freak snowstorms linked up to past deaths."

Jesse appeared in front of the door, bundled up tight with two Burger King sacks in hand. His sneakers and pants were soaking up past his knees. "Have you seen it out there?" he said, equal parts dismayed and delighted. Claire turned a look over her shoulder and couldn't help the way her sudden smile tugged hard into one cheek.

"Not very used to snow, are you?"

"Australia isn't exactly known for its freak blizzards," Ben commented, his eyes crinkling with a smile though he didn't look up from his navigating through the newspaper's web interface.

"No," Jesse said, returning the grin. "Decided to walk out there. It was fun for about the first hundred feet and then it started getting wet and cold." Claire's smile faded a little; her attention turned back to the laptop.

"Conjure up some Carhartts next time, babe. This cold already killed someone last night," she said grimly, rolling through the list of names on her screen.

Jesse's smile fell. "Shit, really? It wasn't that bad." He paused, then added, "What're Carhartts?"

"Clothes and footwear," came Ben's distracted answer as he turned his laptop around toward Claire. "Found a pattern."

That got a slight scowl. "Pattern? What're you doing? And aren't we going to eat? I apparently risked my life for this food, you know."

Despite the serious plunge her stomach took at Ben's discovery, Claire sent Jesse a small smile and waved him closer, then went back to scanning Ben's screen.

"Starting in 2004, there've been at least ten reported deaths a year in this town, all connected to unexpected blizzards," Ben said. "Always ten, always within a week of the first reported snowfall, but at different times during the winter season."

Jesse leaned over his shoulder, eyes widening. "Shit. You mean there is something here?"

Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, feeling her insides chill, then inevitably twist. Immediately, her hand was on her lower abdomen as she got up from her chair and started a slow pace around the room. "Looks like it. We're delaying the ceremony."

"I'll call the Father," Ben said, then frowned in thought. "You think he'd find a way for us to get in and see the body?"

"Wait, what, why delaying the ceremony? What's the Father got to do with this?" Jesse said, only feeling more lost.

"He's overseeing the kid's memorial." Claire settled on the edge of the bed. She met Ben's eyes; something in hers was uncertain. They hadn't taken a hunt since Clifton—that was three months ago. Besides dragging a demon out of Jesse's adopted mother, they'd been _well_ under the radar, and her super-charged instincts were tentatively toeing the line of reluctance. A pause followed until she rolled her lips and sucked it up. "I can distract the desk while you two get to the morgue."

Jesse let out a breath to hide the knot in his stomach. "Alright, but can we eat first?"

Ben immediately frowned a little. Eating before seeing a body was a guaranteed ticket for nausea. He stood, going to where his phone was charging in the dock by the bed. "You guys go ahead. I'm gonna call the Father and Kat." 

* * *

><p>In the end, Ben had encouraged Claire to stay behind with Kat while he and Jesse went on ahead to the morgue. Jesse could easily get past any block in their path, but Ben couldn't handle the idea of Claire being left alone without someone to watch her back. A hunt didn't change the fact that they were still on red alert.<p>

He'd meant to wear his suit on Wednesday for the wedding, but they had to look professional if they were going to act like professionals, so he'd put it on glumly. He'd been quiet all the while as they drove through town.

Jesse was quiet, too, though that was more to do with feeling every small slip of the car's tires and holding onto his seat with a white-knuckled grip. He tried to get his mind off it, but couldn't quite bring himself to look away from the road. "You...you alright, mate?"

"Yeah," Ben answered, his voice sounding far-off and distracted. "Just... hoping this is the one easy case we get this year, so it can be over and done quickly."

That got a sympathetic glance, and Jesse reached over to give his leg a squeeze. The squeeze got tighter when they hit a patch of slush. It was only then that Ben realized that Jesse had been experiencing any sort of discomfort; he'd been a little too focused on his own crap to be paying attention to it. A small smirk twisted on his lips.

"Relax, man," he said. "I pretty much learned to drive in this stuff. We're cool."

"Alright," Jesse said, licking his lips. "Just that whenever I've seen news about blizzards and stuff, it's always got cars spinning out or getting stuck."

"Well don't jinx us," Ben said, a lift of humor in his voice. "I'm not dressed warm enough to push the car out of a ditch."

"Right, sorry," Jesse said, his mouth finally giving a more relaxed twitch. Shifting closer to Ben, he settled his hand higher on his thigh. The car revved a little higher as his foot suddenly pressed harder on the gas, and Ben quickly took a breath to steady himself as he tried not to focus on the heat behind the touch.

"What's the cross street again?"

Though his stomach tightened at the sudden speed, Jesse willed himself to relax. "West Oak," he said, his thumb rubbing in light circles. Ben gave a breathless laugh.

"Hoping to take my mind off the stress, are ya?"

Jesse gave a snort. "No, trying to take _my_ mind off the road." He leaned close, kissing Ben's neck. "But two birds, one stone works for me."

Ben slid one hand off the wheel and sideways, running down the seam of Jesse's slacks. "Distracting the driver isn't exactly the best idea you've had," he pointed out with the same amusement. "But there's a parking garage at the hospital. I promise to reassure you once we're in it."

A pleasant chill ran down Jesse's spine. "Sounds alright to me," he said, resting his head on Ben's shoulder and shifting his hand to a less risque position but not pulling away.

They had to go two more levels down into the sub-basement levels before finding the morgue, and by the time they left the elevator, Ben could see his own breath. On reflex he found himself tensing, half-expecting a ghost around any corner despite the lack of proper chills. When they reached the door he slid through it, moving confidently up to the front counter, which looked empty. There was, however, the distinct hollow click of a keyboard being worked on.

With a craned look, Ben finally saw the source of the noise: a pudgy man in his late fifties, thick glasses propped on a bald head, and a lab coat that'd been made specifically for his four foot six frame. He didn't look up, only paused his typing for a sip of stale coffee.

Scouting around for a buzzer or a bell and finding nothing, Ben was forced to knock lightly on the counter top.

"Excuse me, sir?"

The dwarfish man still didn't look up, but the sigh he released carried a noticeable amount of mild irritation. He went back to typing.

"Do you need bloodwork?"

Jesse had been hanging back but scowled at the question. "FBI, sir," he said, overly loud instead of leaning in with Ben. "We need a look at the kid who froze to death."

The typing paused only long enough for the man to glance up, his tired gray eyes found Jesse first, then switched to Ben. The way his cheek tugged at one side of his mouth showed the lack of enthusiasm.

"_You're_ FBI?" he said gruffly, then scoffed. "And I played for the Bulls. You have an appointment?" It was obvious from his tone that he knew full well they didn't.

"No, sir," Jesse said, half tempted to order the asshole around rather than doing things the hard way. But for the past three months he'd been pounding it into the Nephilims' heads that they had to use their abilities responsibly, and he was having a harder and harder time not feeling like a hypocrite. "We just got sent here on a goose chase to see if this death might be connected to a killer we've had strike in Indianapolis and Chicago, so we just need to get in, see the body, and then get out of this podunk shit town."

That earned Jesse a longer look, at least. A wrinkle of skin appeared between the coroner's brows that screamed skepticism, but it wasn't as dismissive as the first.

"He _froze_ to death, son. Ain't no killer here, 'cept stupidity mixed with alcohol."

"We'll be the judge of that," Ben said in a firm voice, leaving no room for argument.

The man's eyes switched to Ben, not losing their edge. He sat back in his chair, adjusting the thick walking cane so it didn't fall from where it was propped, and swung the tip toward the counter. "Badges and home base number." The cane tapped a piece of paper and chained pen. "Write'em down an'have a seat."

Ben managed to hold back the scowl he felt festering inside him, pulling the paper closer on the countertop. He could feel the nerves twisting up in his gut, hoping that everything moved smoothly. It was going to be a very pivotal few minutes if they weren't careful, and it took everything he had not to simply ask Jesse to work the guy over.

Tossing his badge onto the counter, Jesse leaned back against it so the coroner couldn't see his face. "If you want me to, just ask," he said under his breath to Ben. That was the line he decided to draw; if Ben wanted it, it was okay.

"If he kicks up a fuss," Ben replied in a similar tone, finishing up the long strings of numbers before pulling out his own badge and adding it to Jesse's. Wordlessly he moved to the small line of chairs on the forward-facing wall and sat in the one closest to the door.

The coroner watched them trudge back from over the edge of the counter, then slid the paper and leather-bound IDs down to his level. Silence followed the sound of a phone receiver clicking off its base.

Back in town, at the tail end of a long Starbucks line, a phone started to ring in Claire's coat pocket. She recognized the ringer as from the disposable; one of three they bought before any hunt. Funny, since most of the time, they never had to use them.

"Must've run into a douchebag," she told Kat before putting the phone to her ear, angling away from the line.

"H.R. This is Lorena," Claire answered the phone with a purposefully thickened Chicago accent.

The diminutive coroner turned the badges around in his hands, flipping his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "Yeah hi, Lorena. This is Gerald Greenfield, Jackson County Coroner down in Carbondale. I need confirmation on an Agent Johnson and Agent King." He read off the two sets of badge numbers, then waited, listening to the female voice on the other end. Claire had the fake numbers memorized, and had for a long while now, but she still read them back to the roadblock as if she were typing them in a database, adding distinct pauses for effect.

"So they're on assignment?" he asked into the phone, peeking over the counter again. His expression held firm as 'Lorena' continued on, then broke into a slow spreading half-grin. "No, no trouble other than the usual 'drop everything and cater to us' attitude." He was answered by the sound of flirtatious feminine laughter, which seemed to make his eyes twinkle.

"Yeah, I thought they looked a little green." The one-sided conversation continued, but the boys badges had been pushed back onto the counter ledge. Greenfield's bark of a laugh suddenly split the morgue silence, followed by the squeak of his chair as he slid off of it. "I'll be sure to keep the smelly-salts close... Thank you much, sweetheart." The phone clicked on its receiver. Not long after, the dwarf in a lab coat hobbled around the desk on his cane, arching his eyebrows at the two men. He was smiling, but not warmly. "So who's the one with the weak stomach?"

Jesse returned a tight smile. "I think we can handle one measly frozen body."

Ben knocked one knee against Jesse's in the process of standing as a silent way to remind him not to give in to the wisecracks.

"We'd also like a copy of your reports for our records, Mr. Greenfield," he said, following a few steps behind.

"You'll need a release," the short man said, walking through the cold-room doors as they hissed; hydraulic hinges that catered to his handicap. He headed straight for the step-ladder by the stacked drawer lockers, and started to climb it. "Get that Lorena to call it in, I'll be sure to remember the photos this time," he snorted, pulling open locker Number Four.

Stepping up, Jesse only had a moment to prepare before the sheet was pulled back, his stomach turning. The kid looked mottled and clammy, the y-incision standing out in sharp red against his gray skin. Jesse could see where it started to darken to almost a midnight blue where his back touched the slab, and he knew it was because of the blood that pooled in his body. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to Ben.

Ben's brow was pulled together, his hand automatically finding the button to lift the body to a higher level for a better look. His eyes searched for the regular warning signs: vamp bite to the neck, absent; chest cavity, clean and undamaged save for the incisions; unusual marks around the wrists, eyes, or ears, all unapparent.

"See?" Greenfield said pointedly, leaning on his cane, even on the step-ladder. "Frozen. Had about half a keg in'im, according to the tox-screen. Just got caught in the white-out and couldn't find his way home."

Clearing his throat, Jesse focused on the man. "So that's it? There was nothing different or unusual about the body?"

Greenfield shrugged, mostly with his expression. "He got into some mistletoe sometime not long before he passed out in the snow. Not something we normally find in their stomach contents, but who knows around here. And it is close to Christmas."

Ben's frown deepened in thought. "Where was the body found?" he asked slowly.

"'Bout four blocks from the north campus, in Thompson Woods."

Ben made a mental note of the location, his eyes once again moving to the body. "And there was no other part of the plant in his system? Just the berries?"

"That's it." The phone on the desk outside the cold-room doors started to ring. Greenfield adjusted his small feet on the rungs and hobbled down. "Wrap this up quick as possible, would you?" He started for the door, speaking as he strolled through it. "I'd like to be home for Christmas."

"Absolutely. Be out in ten," Ben replied with his best charming smile, turning his eyes back to the body. When the door finally closed, he tugged out his phone and flipped open the camera option.

Jesse watched him snap the first shot before stepping back; he'd been close to the body long enough. "So mistletoe means what? Some kind of Christmas fairy?"

"If only," Ben answered distractedly, his face pinching in a scowl when the viewing panel showed up blank. He tried again, to similar results. "Mistletoe is steeped in Germanic and Celtic folklore, so at least we've got something to start from. The hell is wrong with this thing..."

"What's up?"

"Gimme your phone a sec?" he asked, his hand already held out to take it. Jesse handed it over without a word and once again Ben took another picture. The viewing panel remained blank.

"What the fuck?" he muttered. Confused, he slid his hand into the frame and took another shot, but only his hand and the empty drawer showed up in the viewing panel. "Well, there's something you don't see every day."

Scowling, Jesse looked over his shoulder. "Well shit." Something hit him. "Hey, that guy, he said something about having photos in the report this time. Which means they didn't have them before."

"How novel," Ben added, feeling a twitch of irritation. "Screw his report, it's not gonna have anything useful in it that we haven't gleaned from this whole thing. Let's get back to the hotel." 

* * *

><p>Jesse always hated waiting after they knocked on a door. It was before they knew anything, before they had direction, and whatever was on the other side would point them somewhere. The wait at the frat house was particularly long. Ben shifted on his feet, his eyes pointed out at the road.<p>

"What's up with the creepy snowman?" he said quietly. "I was expecting something more naughty for a frat house."

When it finally opened, a tousle-haired teen with his shirt on backwards peered at them.

"Yeah?"

There was a quick pause before Jesse said with a smile, "Hi there. We're from the Chronicle. We understand Thomas Carlisle was at this fraternity and wanted to see if we could ask a few questions."

The kid ran a hand over his face. "Tommy was a good kid, it really sucks what happened, and if it wasn't during Christmas, the frat would've stopped him from illegally drinking. There you go."

The door had already started to close, and Ben quickly stuck his hand on it to stop it. "We're not here for info on the obits," he clarified.

The kid glared at him. "No. You're just here to make money off my friend's death. So fuck off."

Ben gave him a genuinely sympathetic frown. "This isn't just an objective story, sir; we're investigative reporters. We have reason to suspect that Tommy may have been the next victim of a string of homicides."

The kid's expression stayed solid, save for losing a bit of color. His eyes shifted down the street in both directions, then settled back on the two men on the stoop. "You know he _froze_, right?"

Ben made a show of looking off over his shoulder before leaning in a little closer. "That's part of the killer's MO that we've noticed so far in our investigation. But we've found potential information to disprove the autopsy reports."

"Shouldn't that be something the police do?"

Jesse gave a breath of a laugh. "Yes, it should be. But the police decided he froze to death and they don't care to look any closer. May we come in?"

After a tight-lipped pause, the kid backed more into the door, holding it open for them. When they brushed through into the overly-warm foyer, he shut it with an extra shove. The frost outside made the hinges stick. "I don't know of many killers who freeze their victims to death. Then again, I didn't know you could freeze in less than five minutes, either."

Ben felt his pulse double at the new information, but managed to keep his expression smooth and unaffected. "Liquid nitrogen is one way," he told the younger man. "Do you have somewhere more private where we can discuss this?"

"I'm the only one here." By his expression, the words _'now that Tommy's gone'_ got left out of that statement. Jesse's expression twisted in sympathy. He half shepherded the kid into the living room and onto the sofa, taking an armchair himself.

"That's gotta be tough. What's your name?"

"Adam," he replied, scooping up a half-empty beer. His face tightened at the taste.

"Ed Koch," Ben told him, holding out his hand. "And this is Nate Harrington, my intern."

Adam didn't immediately reach for the offer; instead, his hand had gone straight to his mouth to keep from losing any of the stale beer he almost choked on. Water rimmed his eyes when he recovered, his brows arching high. "_Koch_ and _Harrington_? Those are seriously your names?"

Jesse's eyes widened slightly. "Why? What's weird about that?"

"I—" Adam looked between them, clearly baffled on how they weren't getting the joke. "I mean...Y'know, nevermind." He wiped his hand on his shirt and shook Ben's hand, then Jesse's. "Just—anyway. Tommy was only out've the bar for five minutes before... I found him like... that."

Ben had been pulling out his notepad to write down the information, but his eyes immediately rose to look at Adam. "What was the name of the bar?"

"PK's." The kid took another sip of beer. "It's this shit-hole on the edge of town."

"Tommy meet anyone there in particular? Someone who stands out in your mind?" Jesse asked. Adam just shook his head, and Ben frowned.

"Any reason you chose this bar, as opposed to the one two streets down?"

"They're cheap. I mean, the whole town's cheap, compared to Chicago, but they're _really_ cheap. Don't really check ID, either."

Jesse nodded with a frown. Nothing was exactly screaming out of the ordinary there. "So he left the bar...why, again?"

Adam shook his head again, his throat tightened with an obviously painful memory. "He needed to take a piss—the bathroom had a line. Jus'the usual with that place."

Another nod. "And you noticed he'd been a while and went looking for him? Did you see anything? Anything at all?" Jesse's voice was firm. Adam scoffed humorlessly, running his hand through his bed-skewed hair.

"It'd only been like five minutes—I went out there 'cuz I had to piss, too. That's what doesn't make sense. I even thought I saw his shadow on the corner, under the one streetlight that was working. I tripped on something heading to meet him—it was _him_ I tripped on."

Ben made a show of writing everything down, though his insides lurched in sympathy. He'd been on that side of anguish before, worrying about his mother. The only difference was that Tommy wasn't coming back; Adam would have to deal with it for however long he would before the pain started to fade, if ever. Ben wracked his brain trying to think of any other pertinent information that they would need, but based on what he'd heard already and what they'd found through research at home, he was already beginning to form a few ideas.

"I think we have everything we need," he said, standing. "Thank you for talking with us, Adam. If we need anything else, we'll contact you."

Adam lifted his eyes, settling them on Ben, his lips folded between his teeth with a nod. His voice was every bit as dejected as it'd been at the start. "There's nothin' more to tell."

The two of them let themselves out of the house quietly, and as they walked back toward the parked GTO, Ben couldn't help staring at the snowman. 

* * *

><p>"What if they're offerings?" Ben said, his eyes never leaving the massive textbook lying across his lap. "I mean, think about it. Ten a year, every year for the last ten years. What if someone's trying to summon something? It would make sense."<p>

"What would take that long to summon?" Jesse said, lying on the bed and at least trying to read, though his eyes were starting to blur. "I mean, that would be huge. Like Lucifer-big."

Claire tried not to let that statement get to her, but it was difficult, especially with the migraine worming its way through her brain. Her eyes were closed. The cool washcloth over them had long ago gone lukewarm.

"That's a wonderful thought," she quietly sighed, her voice soft, but still dripping in personal sarcasm.

Jesse winced, sitting up. "Sorry. Just...thinking aloud."

"Lucifer's trapped in a cage," Ben told him. "With Michael and Adam. The only way to get into it is to be an angel, or to have the keys."

"Well then it's probably not a summoning," Jesse said, just short of snapping. He scowled as he looked back at his book. "Sounds like regular old sacrifice to me."

"Could be," Claire added, but stayed where she was. The headache was keeping her mind weighed down, and it wasn't doing much good for her stomach or sense of usefulness, either. Her chest lifted with a purposefully deeper breath. "Maybe an old-god."

"Never heard of gods affecting the dead before, though," Ben murmured, his eyes finally lifting to look at where Claire was resting. With a frown he lifted the book off his lap, going over to where she was sitting and taking up one of her hands silently. Without explaining himself, he began to knead the webbing between her thumb and index finger. Despite the bit of tension that melted away with another breath, Claire peeked at him from under the cloth.

"Samhain?" she reminded faintly, giving his hand a squeeze. Ben shook his head.

"Not like this. I already called Dad about it when I was running ideas. The MO doesn't fit."

"They all froze to death, with freak storms coming in. That has to mean something. Unless it's a mischief god with a real limited sense of humor," Jess grumbled.

That knocked a few thoughts loose in Claire's head. Her nose wrinkled, and a wrinkle of skin appeared between her brows when they furrowed. "...what has fun killing with Mother Nature and usually has a twisted sense of humor."

Ben continued to knead, his own expression pinched in thought as he tried to think. It couldn't be a trickster; there wasn't anything 'humorous' about the way the people died. Vengeful spirits didn't fit either.

"Y'got me."

Jesse shrugged, not in the mood. "No clue."

Clear by the general atmosphere that pulsed off them both like a bad cologne, Claire gleaned no one was following her train of thought, which made her second guess it, but—what was the harm in guessing? "_Lesser_ gods. Sprites, nymphs, faeries. Take your pick."

Ben frowned a little. "I'll check the lore a bit more, see if I can find any indication about 'souls' being lead away from the bodies. That was my first instinct when photos weren't able to be taken." He paused briefly. "How's your head?" She looked at him, softening.

"I miss aspirin," she sighed. Her heart just wasn't in this hunt, at least not at the moment. Not this week.

Despite his general cranky mood, Jesse felt a pang of sympathy for her. "You really can't take anything? Not even one little panadol?" Claire rolled her head his way, automatically assuming the unknown word had some sort of medical value. For the effort, she gave him a small smile, but shook her head.

"Thought I'd be over the caffeine withdraw by now, too." She sighed. The statement was more for herself. "I'll be fine. I know Kat's got feelers out, I'm sure Dean does too. Maybe we just need to sleep on it."

Ben continued to frown. Going to sleep and not working on the case meant not learning anything; it also meant there would be another dead body by tomorrow.

"I think I'm gonna go stake out PK's," he said. "You should rest. The both of you should."

"No." Jesse snapped for real this time, already on his feet. "You're not going anywhere alone. Not for even five minutes."

Claire's jaw tightened, a reflexive flare of disapproval fed on Jesse's outburst. She agreed with him; she didn't want Ben going alone. The projected scent of a bar lingered in her head, though. She could go, but she'd be more than distracted inside. Pressing her lips together, she looked between them, settling on Ben. "He's right—we're doing this together. Even if it's just watching the place."

Ben scowled slightly. "Am I just not allowed to do anything by myself anymore?" Claire tilted her head at him.

"Is that what this is about?"

"No," Ben interjected. "It's— Every single time I've ever tried to do any amount of work on my own, to keep the momentum going so we don't lose headway, I always get this resistance from both of you." He let go of her hand, running both of his through his hair, then lifted his eyes to Jesse. "I've let you run off by yourself more than once, because I trusted you. Why can't you trust me? I'm not about to go running in guns blazing the moment I think I've got a clear shot."

Shying back from the accusation, Jesse almost let it slide. But they were supposed to talk, and dammit, he was trying. He did his best to keep his voice steady. "Tommy was out of sight for just five minutes. Five minutes, and he froze to death. We don't know what this thing is or how it works, except it attacks people when they're outside and alone. So you're not going outside alone, and it's got fuck all to do with trusting you."

"Oh for fuck's sake, _I know what I'm doing,_" Ben growled out, his hands balling up into fists. Claire pushed a breath through her nose, pinching the bridge of it with two fingers before moving to sit up.

"Y'know..." Normally, Claire had a wide open mind and a nearly endless fuse. She played devil's advocate in most every situation, discussion, and argument that came her way, but her body was absolutely refusing to cooperate with the level of patience she wanted. Her back was to them both, heading for the counter, mirror, and sink. "Do what you want. Whatever you think needs to be done." Her tone was low and tired, accompanied by the rush of water, the washcloth dropped under the stream.

Jesse's stomach twisted, and the tension sagged from his expression. It didn't lessen what he felt about Ben, though he'd lost any desire to shout. Stepping in close, his hand twisting in the shoulder of Ben's shirt, Jesse's gaze hovered around Ben's neck. "I'm afraid," he said quietly. "I know you don't want me to be, but I am. I'm sorry it sounded like an order, and you can do whatever you want. I just wish you would stay with us."

Ben moved his hands to Jesse's face and lifted it so he could look into his eyes. "I can't go to sleep not knowin' what's goin' on," he said. "You know that about me. You'n Claire have had to drag me to bed ever since we started workin' together, and I appreciate that on a deeper level, but there's a pattern of death. What would you rather I do, just sit here and twitch?"

"Take us with you then," Jesse said, even as he steeled himself to be shot down. "Claire can sleep in the back. I'm not going to be able to sleep with you gone anyway, so might as well be useful."

Ben allowed himself the briefest twitch of a smile on his lips. "Hell no; I know what you do when you're bored on a stakeout." He leaned in before there was any protest to kiss him, then pulled back. "Would it make you feel better if I called Kat and had her come along?"

Jesse pursed his lips, holding his breath before letting it out slow. It wasn't what he wanted, and he hated that Ben thought Kat would be a better choice, but at least he wouldn't be alone. "A bit, yeah."

Ben caught the unsaid words in Jesse's eyes. On any other day, he might have just taken it at face value and left, but with three months away from hunting and Claire in her current state, he couldn't stay silent.

"Fine, get your coat."

It was a moment before Jesse processed his actual words, his eyes widening. "What? You— why?"

"So I can blackmail you later when I want something, why do you think?" Ben deadpanned. "You're obviously saying what you think I wanna hear, and I don't want that any more than you want me going by myself, so just get your coat."

Jesse couldn't help but give him a quick kiss. "Claire, too?" he added under his breath. Ben scoffed lightly.

"Yeah, Claire, too. Let me get her, though."

By the sink, Claire had heard most of what had been said behind her, and remained stoically silent the whole time. The water running over her hands was cold enough, the rag was saturated, but she kept washing and wringing, holding on to the dark cloud that brewed with her headache, thanks to the conversation. Ben moved to where she was standing as Jesse went to get ready, sliding up behind her but not quite touching her. Her tone had been riding the line between angry and defeated, and he didn't want to risk being shrugged off.

"You fine with sleeping in the back, then?" he asked her quietly.

She'd felt his approach, sensing it more than seeing it in the mirror. Each step closer tightened the ball of mixed emotions and general sourness in her stomach. Claire did not look up from the sink, even as she turned off the faucet. "I'm staying here."

Ben blinked, then frowned. "Any particular reason?"

"Sleeping in the back isn't exactly being very useful," she answered in the same, even tone. She was skirting the flare of extreme annoyance that had her move across the room in the first place, mainly hoping it would just go away. Talking about it wasn't helping, and she knew why; slowly but surely, her body was getting away from her. Her moods weren't strictly governed by logic, her priorities rode the crests of hormone waves instead of her surroundings, making it easier to be angry with Ben than focus on how helpless she felt in her own damn skin. "I'm fine by myself," she added, quieter, then looked up at him in the mirror. "Just like you."

Ben immediately scowled at her response, fighting off the urge to turn her around so that she looked at him properly. "I told you that wasn't what I meant."

Claire rolled her lips hard, dropping her eyes from his image in the mirror. She stood there in contemplative silence for a moment before physically turning around on her own, leaning back against the counter. "I know you, Ben. Your first reaction to anything, whatever it is, goes bone deep." She met his eyes, and felt a twinge tighten her chest. She was angry, but the target wasn't clear, not even to her. Frustration, hurt, and emotional fatigue were the sharpest things in her gaze.

Ben took a step closer, reaching out to put his hands on her forearms. "He's only happy when he's swooping in and being the hero, and you're..." he bit the word back, but it was obvious what he wanted to say. "You're not in it. I can see it in your eyes. I wasn't trying to be a dick, okay; I just want this done and out of the way so we can be safe again."

For whatever reason, his touch seemed overly-warm. It distracted Claire briefly, but his words pinched her face in an involuntary wince. No matter how hard she wanted to hold on to the vague animosity toward him, she couldn't. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a subconscious effort to do something with the chaotic angst that flooded her lack of focus.

Her eyes watered, then dropped again, like her chin to her chest and a long sigh. "I know you do," she said softly. Though her tone had lost its subtle electricity, it still didn't change the fact that she'd be little more than dead weight in her mind. Reluctance snuck into her voice, and she couldn't directly meet his gaze. "That's why you should go."

Ben felt something in his chest clench painfully. He did not, under any circumstances, want Claire alone at the hotel. It had been his main reason for wanting to go out on the stakeout by himself in the first place: because he knew one of them needed to go, and he knew Jesse still hadn't forgiven himself for the incident with the kids back in Louisiana.

"I'm not leaving you alone here," he said, low and emphatically. "I can't do that. Not after everything that's happened. So either I call Kat and risk her screaming at me about babysitting, or you get to tell Jesse to stay, if you're so determined not to go." Hating the sound of his tone, he slid his hand up under her chin and tipped her back to meet his eyes. "I don't wanna fight with you, not tonight, but this case isn't being put on pause until the morning. There _will be_ another person dead if that happens."

The pressure in her head and the sourness in her stomach didn't ease with the sudden wash of weakness she felt everywhere else, especially when a small voice she didn't recognize in the back of her head protested that she didn't care about what they'd find in the morning. She _did_ care, at a cellular level, but there was still that little voice... And it was getting stronger week by week.

Claire swallowed thickly, frustrations turning in on herself. She was quiet for another moment, trying to hold on to something more positive. He was right; the sooner this was over, the better.

"I'll get my coat," she conceded quietly. 

* * *

><p>Jesse sat in the passenger seat, awake, watchful, and and not bored at all. And he certainly wasn't thinking of getting handsy with Ben even though he was sitting right next to him. Even if he did shoot the occasional glance his way.<p>

The one good thing was that he had no desire to get out of the car and join the crowd at PK's. It looked like the last great bastion of pissed-off drunks and assholes, a steady stream of bikers with the occasional frat boy and professional drunk. But so far, no sign of anything strange.

"Y'know, he talked about seeing his friend's shadow," Jesse said, though his eyes were on the bar. "Not another skinwalker, do you think?"

Ben shook his head. "We wouldda seen something in the papers about murders or other mayhem with them using their faces by now. And that thing with the photos is still bugging the shit outta me." He paused long enough to take another gulp from his coffee before adding, "I've never seen anything like that before. Dad hasn't either, and he's been in the biz a long time."

"So it's probably something unique. Or really rare, right? We'll have to be careful until we get a real handle on it."

"Right," Ben replied, his eyes having never left the doors of the divebar. "Safety first."

Jesse almost reached on to give his leg a squeeze. _No, business only. And I'm not bored._ "What connects the victims? There has to be something."

Ben worried his lower lip between his teeth, his brow furrowing. "Don't know until we go back and interview the surviving relatives or friends. It happened last year; we'll have to start there."

Jesse watched a bit longer before glancing back to check that Claire really was out of it. He bit his lip. "She was a bit snappy today, wasn't she?"

It was those words that finally had Ben's gaze move, and only long enough to look in the rearview mirror. She was wrapped up in a blanket with her back to them, blond hair peeking out from beneath her hat and the denseness of her coat.

"Mom was too, with Krys," he said quietly, hazel eyes once again out the window. "It's typical."

The laugh died before it had a chance to escape. He couldn't help thinking how unnecessary the whole thing was. But he knew neither of them would appreciate it. "What else is typical?"

"The throwing up," he said, drumming his fingertips on the dash. "The thing about smells. The not-sleeping-well, though it'll probably get worse before it gets better." He brought one hand up behind his neck and rubbed it, a faint color touching his cheeks. "She got extra affectionate near the end of it. In more ways than one, from what I remember overhearing."

Jesse pulled a face. "Near the end? But fuck, wasn't she huge?"

"Didn't seem to slow them down," Ben muttered.

"Gak!" Jesse shook his head. "I'm freaked out enough with that bulge she's got going. Can't imagine riding a full on prego."

Ben gave his shoulder a well-meaning knock. "Don't be insensitive. She's got needs just the same as anybody."

One of the drunks from the bar came stumbling out, took three steps off to the side, and threw up. Ben winced. If possible, Jesse's expression twisted with more distaste. "It's coming up on 2 AM, mate. Don't you think the thing would've shown by now?"

"Take a nap if y'want," Ben said in a distracted voice, watching the drunk as he started the slow stumble through the snow. "I'm gonna wait it out."

Going a little sullen, Jesse looked back at the door. "No, I'm fine."

Ben slid his hand down to rest on Jesse's knee. "There's a Monster in the bag if you want it."

"Wha...? Fuck, your drink names here," Jesse said, settling a hand on Ben's as he leaned forward and dug in the bag. Ben blinked for a moment in confusion before grinning wide and biting his free hand to keep from laughing out loud.

"Sorry."

Claire had been drifting in and out of consciousness, mostly only long enough to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Too long being still in a too-short back seat, however, made her rest pretty _restless_. She found herself staring at the stitching on the seat cushion, still somewhere between mental fog and sleep. The boys' quiet conversation and stirring was background noise, but it was movement that drew her attention out the window.

She shifted, peering up through the glass to the angled landscape, thinking the shadow was just a big snowflake. Ben caught the movement in the back seat and turned to look up into the rearview mirror, his eyes softening.

"Y'alright back there?"

"S'it snowing?" Maybe her eyes weren't focused yet.

Jesse glanced back at her, then out the window. "Yeah, a bit. Why?"

"Thought I saw something moving back here," she said in a sleepy voice, almost dismissive. Claire started to sit up, sighing at the crick in her neck. Ben immediately turned his neck and craned to look, trying to see what he thought she'd seen. Sure enough, the drunk that had started stumbling off appeared to have two shadows. Ben reached for his gun on reflex. Jesse jerked at the sudden reaction, his adrenaline jumping as he spun in his seat. The movement had Claire's attention, too.

"What?"

"Guy's got two shadows," Ben said quickly. In spite of promising he wouldn't run straight into battle, he had to stop the guy from getting killed. He couldn't just sit idly by. He shoved the door open with his shoulder, bolting across the street.

His breath catching, Jesse looked at Claire, then scrambled through Ben's door. "Stay here!" he shouted at her before he slammed the door shut and took off at a run.

A few profanities shot through Claire's mind as the GTO vibrated with the slammed door. She stared through the window at their running figures, thought processes trying to catch up with some semblance of a plan.

"Hey!" Ben shouted with authority toward the drunk. He turned his head toward Ben and Jesse at a delayed pace, eyes suddenly going wide as he stumbled and attempted to run away from them.

"Stop!" Jesse ordered, the man almost falling over as he was forced to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" the man babbled, wide-eyed and terrified. Ben suddenly regretted not having grabbed the salt canister in the glove compartment.

"You have to get inside!" Ben snarled out, grabbing the man by the shirt and yanking him to his feet. He immediately tried to free himself. "Now!"

"Okay! Okay, okay!"

The moment Ben let him go, he immediately moved into the nearest gas station convenient store. Claire was ready to jump out of her skin as she watched through the crack in the window, the heavy grip of her gun ready and poised just out of sight, but she didn't open the door. Rear-views were just as important, and if she was going to be their cover for the next six months, then so be it.

But as the checks ran through her head—placing Jesse and Ben, placing the one they were tracking—the realization struck her.

"It's gone!" she called out at them. "The second—it's gone!"

Jesse whipped around at the words, looking at Claire, then at the ground. "That—That's a good thing, right? Means it's left?"

"Not necessarily," Ben said in a paranoid tone, his eyes moving rapidly around them as he searched for the out-of-place thing that might give them a clue as to where the second shadow went.

Turning another full circle, Jesse suddenly stopped, looking down. "Ben? Those aren't from your boots, are they?" he said, pointing to a set of footsteps. Footsteps that followed right behind the drunk's, and then just stopped. Ben looked down, then blanched, bringing his gun up to level and surveying their surroundings with wide, sweeping looks.

"Get back to the car," he said in a low voice. "Slowly. I'll cover you."

Swallowing, Jesse started backing up. "As long as you're coming with."

"I'm right behind you," Ben answered, a wary smile coloring his words as he back-peddled toward the car. Claire watched them both like a hawk, already reaching into the front seat to push open the door.

Sliding in, Jesse didn't let out his breath until Ben was safely inside. "Shit, I hate invisible ones. They're the worst."

Ben gunned the engine to life in an instant, immediately shooting down the street at the fastest speed he could muster.

"Well, I think we've got a lead, at least," he said, his heart still racing and his eyes frozen on the little gas station as they passed it. Claire had a hard grip on the seat back between the boys, swallowing back the throb of nausea riding her adrenaline. Her eyes snapped from window to window, keeping watch. Out the back, caught in the red haze of the GTO's taillights, she saw it.

"What the hell—?" she breathed, squinting for a closer look.

On edge, Jesse looked back quickly. "What? What's wrong?"

"...it's a—_snowman_?" She sounded more disturbed than confused. Right there in the middle of the tracks made by the car, it sat, like it'd been dropped from the sky. Ben's eyes flicked up to the rearview, catching sight of the thing and pressing a bit harder on the gas. They were definitely going to barricade the doors and windows that night. 

* * *

><p>It wasn't the first time Claire had acted like a college student, though in the back of her mind she had to wonder how long her looks would let her keep it up. With the right clothes, manner of speech, and a little research in the area, she could look a good handful of years younger than she was, but she was pushing the end of grad-school age now. Not to mention the <em>other<em> time-line staring her body in the face.

That was still easy to hide, but not quite as simple to forget when the smell of body odor and old smoke, puke, and wood varnish threatened to strangle her with every breath in PK's. Even at three in the afternoon, when the only occupants were the three of them and the ancient-looking biker behind the bar. Adjusting her eyes to the dark from the insane-bright of the snowy street, she slipped in through the heavy wooden door, behind held back by Ben's shoulder—Jesse on her heels.

"Not too early, are we?" she smiled at the bartender automatically when he looked their way. Just a couple friends out for drinks at the cheapest bar in town. Had nothing to do with the second body found frozen in the alley early that morning.

"Happy hour's in twenty minutes," the man behind the bar grunted in a very un-happy manner. "Did you want a menu?"

"Yeah, sure," Ben answered dismissively.

The place wasn't large but Jesse took to wandering, peering in the empty booths. "Digging the place, man," he said in his best American accent, which was a bit more West Coast than Midwest. "Got that rustic, real feel."

The bartender arched his bushy eyebrows at him in skepticism as he passed them each an aged laminated menu.

"Been in the family a good long time. Pillar of the community or some shit. What can I startcha for drinks?"

"Water," Claire muttered, sitting on a stool and sweeping the place with another glance. Besides being a real dump, nothing stood out.

"G and t," Jesse said, though he still wandered, testing the creaking floor.

"Rum and coke for me, thanks," Ben said. "Got any cool stories?"

Giving him a dry look, the bartender prepped their drinks. "It's a bar, son. You ever been in one, you know what kinda stories go on."

"How'bout the one in the news this morning?" Claire offered up just as flat, pushing her eyebrows up at the old man in a challenging, but still 'playful' manner. As much as she could, anyway. The bartender passed her the water she'd asked for, giving a wry smile and shaking his head.

"Awful thing, what happened to Pete. But honestly? The guy was a waste'a space. Owed a lotta people money. It was only a matter'a time before karma caught up to him."

Some of the light dimmed in Ben's eyes and he dropped his gaze to where his hands rested on the bartop. The fact that they'd managed to save the guy, only for him to die anyway, had really upset him.

"So what happened?" Claire pushed on, making sure to keep her tone vaguely dismissive. The leads were drying up, frustrations were mounting, and now there was another body-this bar was at the center of it, far as they could figure. Being so direct usually wasn't in Claire's comfort zone, but they needed a bone to chew on. This needed to be done. "All they said was they found'im outside..."

The bartender shrugged. "You'd have to ask the cops. I don't know no more than anybody else."

"You had to have heard something," Jesse said, finally coming around to lean on the bar. A curious smile played on his lips. "Or seen someone go out after him. C'mon, man, tell us what you know."

The bartender finished off their drinks, passing them to either man, a scowl on his face. "Y'know how hard it is for me to notice something less than three inches away from my face durin' a night, kid? I get thirty or forty people a shift, and that's just in the winter; I don't got time to be watchin' fer shit ain't demanding my immediate attention. So no, I don't know nothin'. Maybe you should ask his poker buddies."

Claire toyed with the straw in her glass, but didn't actually drink from it. Call it instinct, but she wasn't touching anything in this bar. She wasn't planning on staying here any longer than necessary, either. "Those poker buddies know how to deep freeze a man in five minutes?" Though her eye contact remained steady, same as it had been earlier, Claire's tone had dropped to somewhere between casual and secretive.

The bartender stared at her for a moment before busting out into a belly laugh.

"That's funny, lady. Thing is though, most people who're drunk, they can't feel nothin' anymore until it's too late. That's the trouble with drunks."

"You see many of them go that way?" Jesse said, leaning forward, his expression overly eager.

"In the winter, yeah." The bartender looked between the three of them. "Can I see your IDs? In all this drillin', I forgot t'ask."

As Ben and Jesse shuffled out their predesignated fakes, Claire just bit back an unamused smirk. She wasn't convinced this guy was just a boob-bartender who lost track of customers, nor did she believe seeing their IDs had anything to do with liquor laws.

"Ain't you got one?" the geezer asked, arching a brow at Claire. Her own pushed up slightly.

"Drinkin' water," she reminded him. "And I doubt you think I'm under eighteen."

"Fair enough," he muttered, pulling the IDs up and out a small distance. "Maryland, eh?" came the next question, aimed at Ben. "Bit of a ways away. What brings ya to our little podunk town?"

Ben gave him a thin-lipped smile, then slid his arm around Claire. "We're getting married, actually."

"That right? Congrats to you two. Too bad about the snow, though."

Jesse shrugged. "I figure snow's good luck. Y'know, like if a bird shits on you."

Ben snickered, but the bartender didn't seem as easily amused.

"Don't underestimate the weather 'round here, kids," he said solemnly. "It's all too easy to get snow blind or lost out there."

The door jingled as another person entered the bar.

"Hey, Jack!" A feminine voice called out. Her hood came down a moment later and she shook her fingers through her long, dark hair. "Can I get a to-go special, extra slaw?"

The bartender smiled some. "Comin' right up, Leslie."

Leslie's eyes fell on the three of them with a stranger's curiosity, but she made a point in not staring, her feet slowly leading her in the direction of the little jukebox occupying one corner of the bar. Jack the bartender moved out of sight, most likely into the kitchen to fix up her order, which left the three hunters mostly alone. Ben drained half his glass before he said, "So I guess it's back to checking on the family?"

Claire nodded, rather thrilled with the idea of getting out of this place. Tossing some cash on the bar, Jesse downed the last of his drink and shot a grin at Leslie before leading the way outside. At least this part of investigating had some perks. 

* * *

><p>Ben worked to iron his suit jacket quickly, his eyes on the clock rather than at the two bodies currently dressing and prepping not too far behind them. Kat would be there any minute to join up in the interview process, and Ben had pulled the short straw to call her and invite her along. It would mean covering more ground, and with another body soon to be taken, they needed to work fast.<p>

There was a sharp rapping at the door, and he moved quickly to open it, finding the older hunter on the other side with a slight scowl to her expression.

"Heya, Kat."

"Hi," she said flatly, walking in and letting him shut the door behind her.

Jesse shot her a wide smile as he buttoned up his shirt. "Afternoon, Kat. Thanks for coming around to lend a hand. We've been hitting empty here."

"About that," Kat said, her voice a little louder and with a decent amount of weight to the words. Her eyes immediately fell on Claire. "I think you three should do what you came here to do and move along."

Claire's eyes moved to Ben first, her effort to twist her hair back momentarily put on pause.

"What?" Ben blurted, his face twisted in confusion. "Why? It's a hunt, Kat, and we need—"

"To take care of each other, and go," Kat interrupted, her tone firm. "You've had a hard enough year, what with two friggin' kidnappings and whatever the hell else you aren't telling me. No. You don't need to finish this case. I'll take care of it. I owe you one anyway, if I'm not mistaken."

Jesse glanced at Claire, then back at Kat, his expression firm. "We're not going. This isn't a one-person operation, especially since we don't know what we're dealing with yet."

"I've already called in two friends of mine," Kat returned swiftly. "They'll be here in four hours. It's cutting into a case they've been working on for a few months, but they're having trouble tracking down the critter behind it. They're itchin' to kill somethin'. It'll be fine." Her eyes turned again to Claire's with a quiet sort of pleading. "Please do this."

Something had been twisting in Claire's gut since the start of this conversation, and it wasn't morning sickness. She leaned against the sink counter, letting her hair fall and taking a deep breath. Kat's expression mirrored how she felt inside, and it was impossible to brush aside.

"Give us a sec, Kat?" she asked, some pleading in her own voice she couldn't fully hide. Kat nodded and headed out the door again, already pulling out a pack of American Spirit cigarettes as the door fell shut behind her.

Once the door was closed, Claire looked directly at Ben. Her lips fell slightly open, prepared for speech that she wasn't sure on yet, but it was clear on her face what she was thinking.

Ben felt something inside his chest constrict at her look and he swallowed. "If this is what you want," he said quietly.

Jesse looked between them, brow wrinkled. "We're just going to leave these people to get hurt?" he said bluntly. Ben turned to look at him with a muted sort of surprise, not having expected that answer after all the times Jesse had argued about them choosing to walk away.

"We're not exactly getting much accomplished as it is, and if Kat's got help on the way..."

"But it's not our fault. I mean, if we can't do it, who's to say Kat will do any better?"

"She's been doing this a lot longer than any of us," Claire added quietly, almost as if she were afraid her tone might break glass. Her eyes lifted to Jesse, all the complicated things behind them went unhidden. "She also wouldn't ask us to just 'shuffle along' for anything but good reasons."

Jesse looked sheepish but still uncertain. "Like what?"

Ben chewed his lips, but stayed silent. He had a pretty good idea what Kat's motivations were for intervening, and a small part of him was grateful that she would be willing to pick it up for them after how they'd last left her. Yet at the same time, he hated the idea of walking away from a case, even if it meant with Claire and Jesse at his sides.

There was a long pause before Claire answered, and when she did, it was uncertain, or weak.

"She's worried about me."

"Like I said," Ben repeated in a low voice. "If this is what you want, then we'll go. If you trust her, I trust her." He rolled his lips before adding, "But maybe we could compromise. Two more sets of eyes would definitely get us beating this thing faster."

"Just a couple days, at least," Jesse said with a shrug. "I get being worried, but we're being careful. It's not like we're putting you in any more danger than you've been in."

Claire pressed her lips in a line, fatigue and effort in her eyes. She nodded, though, watching both of them.

"Two days," she started, leaning back against the dresser. Ben nodded, moving over to where she settled and leaning in to kiss her.

"I'll go get Kat," he said quietly, then turned and headed out the door.

Biting his lip, Jesse took Claire's hand. "Hey, if you want to hole up here for today, do it. We can make this room a fortress and I can handle things on my end alone for a bit."

Her eyes had followed Ben on his way out the door before falling on Jesse's face with his touch-cue. Lots of things swirled behind her gaze, but none of them weighed enough at the moment to be given a voice. She didn't _want_ to concentrate on what she was feeling, nor did she want to argue—not with them, and not with herself.

Without saying anything, her hand tightened in his; she leaned forward, cheek on Jesse's suit-jacket shoulder, finding the quiet comfort there. Jesse wrapped his arms around her, though he couldn't help but frown. He didn't know what she needed, but he felt like he wasn't giving it to her right then.

"Just be careful," she uttered, almost whispered, slipping her hands into his pockets. "Both of you." 

* * *

><p>Jesse had expected something different from the hunters Kat had called in. Older, definitely. And more worn down, like Sam and Dean. Michael, however, was young. And fit. And ridiculously good-looking.<p>

Not to mention sitting next to him in a very warm car. Jesse tried not to pay too much attention to him, which meant he only glanced his way every five seconds or so. Pulling up to the house was a relief.

"So, how d'you want to play this?" Jesse asked.

"Kat only really gave us the jist over the phone," Michael answered honestly, his Midwestern accent giving a slight lift to his vowels. "I'm more'n happy coverin' you, man. If there's a question needs askin', I'll be sure to speak up."

Jesse wanted to object and insist that he was still the newbie in all this, but losing face in front of Michael seemed an even worse fate than just bungling the whole thing. This would be the first time he was taking the lead, though, where there was an absolute moratorium on his powers.

"Alright, sure, sounds good," he said, getting out of the car before he could find another reason to hesitate. He didn't look back as he headed for the door, putting on his FBI face.

A few moments after they'd rung the bell, the sound of a lock being unfastened preceded an open door. Behind it was a nearly overly-tall redheaded woman in her late twenties, a confused and expectant look in her brown eyes.

"Yes?"

"Melissa James?" Jesse asked; she nodded. "I'm Special Agent Terry, this is Special Agent McGinnis. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your brother, Owen."

Melissa squinted at the two of them for a moment, obviously caught off guard and clearly not thrilled with it. "Right _now_? Why?"

Jesse nearly winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry we have to bring up what was probably a painful time for you, but we have reason to suspect your brother's death wasn't as accidental as first thought. May we come in?"

The freckles on her nose wrinkled in thought. Melissa shot a look over her shoulder into her house before sighing, then backed into the door to let them in. Leading the way, Jesse glanced around. The place seemed nice enough, if small. They walked right into the living room and he waited for Melissa to sit on the armchair first before settling onto the couch. Michael sat next to him. Not that he particularly noticed or anything.

"I won't mince words, Ms. James. Recently there were two deaths that were very similar to your brother's, and there is enough evidence to suggest that it isn't all coincidence. I know it was a while ago, but if you could tell us everything you remember about that time, it could help our investigation."

Pulling a face, she folded her arms across her middle and shook her head. "_Everything_ I remember? That's kind of a tall order."

Michael gave her a kind smile. "We'll start with the important parts and work our way down: It said on the report that you had seen him the night that he died. Did he seem nervous at all? Upset?"

"Drunk," she corrected, her voice fell somewhere between sadness and an old irritation. "_Hammered_, actually. It was a few days after a bad break-up."

Michael's brows lifted. "What was the woman's name?"

"Lydia Carmichael. She moved to Chicago."

"Do you know where he'd been that night? Or did he get drunk at home?" Jesse asked, a little more weight behind the words.

"We went to Sidetracks first, but they were too crowded—we ended up at PK's. I left him there..." Melissa rubbed at a worry-spot on her temple, sighing again. "I should've stayed."

Jesse stared, his brain having ground to a halt the moment she said "PK's." Michael looked briefly sideways at him out of the corner of his eye before barreling on.

"So you say your brother was drunk," he started. "Did he have a history of drinking, or was this a one-time thing?"

"Hardly a one-time thing, but he wasn't a drunk. No one blamed him."

"What were the names of his haunts? We're cross-referencing them with the data we've collected so far. It would be very helpful," Michael said.

Melissa shrugged tiredly, then shook her head lightly. "PK's, Tracks, The Cellar sometimes. He just went where his friends went, which was where the cheap beer was."

Michael looked more deliberately sideways at Jesse, brows lifted in a silent question. Jesse looked a bit uncertain but said, "Okay. Thanks, that's helpful. I think that's all we need?" He didn't mean it to come out as a question, and Michael quickly covered it by nodding and giving another quick smile, standing and offering his hand.

"If we need any more information, may we contact you again?"

"You know," she started again, then paused as she mulled over her thought. She moved her eyes to Michael, then Jesse in turn. "The police didn't really do much, since it was an accident and all—but that asshole at PK's, he's still there. There's a lot of accidents around that place. He really should lose his license."

"The bartender?" Jesse blurted. "What do you mean 'asshole'? What'd he do?"

"He just... seems to pick people he doesn't like."

Jesse's frown deepened. "Pick people? How?"

Melissa's brows furrowed, her voice darkened by a show of frustration. "How should I know? He's an _asshole_."

Michael gave her a sympathetic smile and a nod. "They tend to be," he commiserated. "We'll look into it, though. Thank you for the tip."

She nodded, everything about her face and posture lacking enthusiasm as she stood from the chair to let them out. Michael paused on the other side of the door, staring at the front yard.

"Creepy snowman," he pointed out, frowning.

Jesse hissed in a breath. "Get in the car," he said, walking quickly to follow his own advice, his eyes following the snowman. It remained unmoving, but what made it even more unsettling was the tracks that lead up to it but suddenly stopped.

As soon as he was inside, he said, "I didn't see that coming in, did you?"

Michael started texting his partner the moment they were in the car. She had been on scope-out duty in front of PK's, but his face was mostly calm at this new reveal.

"Next survivor, or is this enough to go on?" he asked in a far-away sort of voice.

"It's enough for me. Everything keeps centering around that place, and that fucking snowman isn't a coincidence," Jesse said, jaw firm as he pulled out. "We gotta take that guy down, tonight."

Michael looked up once the text was sent, meeting his look with a solemn nod and frown of his own. "I'll send Kat a text and let her know we need to pull back and regroup." He chewed his lower lip, brows coming together before adding, "You said you saw the snowman before?"

"Yeah. At PK's, last time I saw one like it."

Michael made a thoughtful noise, grabbing for his bag where it was resting at his feet and pulling it up to pull out his notepad computer.

"I wonder if..." he muttered absently.

"What? You recognize it?" Jesse said quickly.

Michael shook his head, his world-roughened fingers taping out rapidly against the touch screen. "No, but it sounds a lot like golems."

"Golems? Like from—" Jesse stopped himself short. "Like the kind made of clay?"

Michael nodded. "They can be made from organic matter. The more fluid movement, the better; so clay, mud, vinery sometimes. Never heard of a snowman, but..." his lips twisted wryly. "There's always that Frosty the Snowman story. Maybe there's some merit in it."

Jesse's mouth fell open, almost into a smile. "Fuck me. It _is_ evil snowmen."

"I'm looking up th—" he was interrupted by the notification on his phone, which he quickly checked. He snickered before pocketing it again. "I'm looking up the lore now. Kat says she'll meet us at the hotel in ten." 

* * *

><p>Claire's hand felt numb, having propped her chin and cheek for the last god-knows-how-long while her other hand twitched over her laptop's mouse field. She'd been picking out <em>everything<em> that seemed even remotely relevant; now three hours into the task of actually _reading_ through it all, the words were starting to blend together. This didn't usually happen until she was well into her twentieth hour of research, but that'd always been dependent on caffeine.

She closed her eyes and pinched the corners, like that would reset everything. It didn't, but at least she got a break from reading, thanks to the opening door. Kat's daughter Serah looked up at the sound, lips turning up in one corner as her mother and Ben came through first.

"This mean I can have a smoke break now?" she said to her mother, her tone and wording eerily similar to the older woman's. Kat gave her a frown, then nodded.

"Stay close," she told her firmly. Serah immediately stood, grabbing her coat and slipping out the door. Ben went straight to Claire, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"Jess should be here any minute."

Claire nodded tiredly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Any leads?" she asked both of them, stiffly sitting back in the hotel chair. Kat settled in the chair her daughter vacated, opening her jacket and unbuttoning the first button of her Oxford shirt.

"Another patron of PK's," she reported. "Mikey sent word they got the same."

Ben's expression grew a little solemn. "There was another snowman, too."

"_Fantastic_," Claire sighed.

There was a click and the door opened sharply, Jesse brushing in with Michael right behind. He stumbled, though, at finding the room so full.

"Hey. Back. Up to speed?" he said, looking between them. Ben moved to fill up the little paper hotel cups with coffee for all of them.

"We haven't been here that long," Kat replied, her eyes turning to Michael, whose mouth was pressed in a line.

"I think the snowmen are golems."

Claire stared at him for a moment of workable silence, then sighed at her laptop screen.

"Makes sense—kinda. Not real sturdy ones..."

"Don't need to be sturdy," Michael answered with a nod. "Just need to get the job done. If a guy's drunk, that shouldn't be hard. And it would explain the need for snow, if whatever's controlling them is tied to the element."

Ben brought them back their coffees, which Michael took with a grateful smile and Kat a muttered thank-you.

"Definitely explains the freezing, but how would golems have the power to do that?"

"Whoever's controlling them. They gotta have that kind of power," Jesse said with a nod. "Golems are only as good as what's put into them."

"Awesome," Kat said flatly. "So what's the deal with PK's, other than it being a huge divebar?"

"That creepy-ass bartender's got something to do with it. At least that's what the sister said," Jesse said, his voice a bit quick. "Said he was kinda focused on our vic the night he died."

Ben's eyes widened, then he scowled. "Why's it always the creepy old bastard who ends up being the one to kill them all? No fun in that."

"Didn't realize this was supposed to be fun," Kat answered gruffly. Ben's teeth clicked with the suddenness of his going quiet, and Michael gave Kat a swat to the shoulder.

"Don't be a dick, Kat. It's not every day we get to fight a he-witch this strong."

"...don't think it's a he-witch," Claire spoke up after a moment. She'd been sifting through all the saved pages on her screen, filtering out the irrelevant and searching for more specific things. "Look."

With the touch of a button, the page blew up on the screen. The majority of the image was an old black and white engraving of an gnarly, ancient looking man in the woods, seemingly controlling a harsh blizzard. The caption embossed the name 'Jack Frost'.

Michael leaned over to look at the screen, brows raising. "A fairy? He's a _fairy_?"

Kat scoffed loudly. "No such thing."

"But Kat—" Ben immediately blurted. "Don't you know that anytime someone says 'I don't believe in fairies,' there's a fairy somewhere that falls down dead?" Claire's chin dropped with a huff, wondering if Ben knew the hurricane of jokes _that_ quip would bring on him. Michael had been midway through a sip and choked.

Kat rolled her eyes, then said in a deadpanned voice: "Then how are you still alive?"

Jesse let out a hard snort of laughter though his face was quickly turning red. Claire clamped down on the inside of her lip, biting back a bit of laughter in light of the situation. The door suddenly opened, Serah and another woman appearing in the doorway. Serah looked between the lot of them, her brows rising.

"Did I miss something?"

Michael snickered, meeting eyes with the woman at Serah's side. She smiled back at him, coming over to his side and leaning against him as easily as breathing. Jesse quickly looking away. Ben found himself staring a moment.

"So how do we kill this sumbitch, Clairey?" Kat asked pointedly.

"Looks like..." she paused for a moment to scan the screen. One hand went into her own hair, kneading the back of her neck. "—Christ, I hate this archaic crap. Best I can figure, a holly stake in the heart."

Jesse looked over at her, eyebrows raised. "Stake through the heart? You sure? 'Cause y'know that's how people thought you killed vampires."

"Yes, and until two seconds ago, we all thought Jack Frost was a bad 90's movie."

"It _is_ a bad 90's movie," Michael's partner added with a wry smile. "But holly shouldn't be hard to track down, given the givens. You'd think he'd be less inclined to make it snow in the friggin' winter when they sell holly by the truckload at most stores."

"Because making it snow in summer wouldn't draw any attention at all," Jesse said dryly.

"I've seen it snow in March out here sometimes," Michael commented. Ben frowned in thought.

"Does it have to be a stake?" he said slowly. "Maybe we can bust out the crossbow, get him from a distance. Something tells me walking up to the guy isn't gonna be an easy feat."

Claire made a contemplative face, shooting it toward Kat. "I don't see why not?"

"C'mon," Kat said to her daughter, already rising from her chair. "We're going shopping."

Serah rolled her eyes. "So much for a quiet vacation." She turned to Claire, giving the other woman's arm a light squeeze. "Seeya later." Claire flashed a small, but genuine smile toward Serah, then made a point to blow Kat a sardonic air-kiss.

Jesse, however, was still looking at Ben. "We don't even know for sure he's the one; shooting is a bit premature." He glanced at Michael and his girlfriend before adding, "We should talk to him first."

"We could run in and observe him a bit," Michael said. "He hasn't met us yet. We could easily track him while you guys handle recon."

Ben gave a nod. "Sounds good to me. You got my cell, yeah?"

Michael nodded. His partner was already halfway out the door, on Kat's tail.

"We'll call you the moment we get a chance," she added. The room seemed twice as loud with the sudden absence of the other four people.

His brow furrowing in concern, Jesse looked between them. "Never thought I'd be saying this, but bit of a quick jump to using crossbows, don't you think?"

Claire looked at him, turning in the chair, leaning back against it enough to make it creak. "They're not running to tag him right now—we're covering options." Her own brows pushed down, creasing the skin between them.

Ben had already resumed in reading the entry over Claire's shoulder, and was silent for a moment before saying, "He's controlling their souls."

"Wait, what? All I ever heard Jack Frost did was make ice ferns on windows," Jesse said, sitting down hard and looking uncomfortable.

"The golems appear as shadows, then manifest as snowmen," Ben said evenly. "He's able to summon snow. He's a fairy. Fairies are about as greedy as demons when it comes to souls, man. Even if we burned the bodies right now, it wouldn't make a difference so long as he has control of them."

"What do _you_ feel like doing next?" Claire asked toward Jesse, gently, despite the ache in her voice.

Jesse shifted in his seat. "I mean, just make sure he is what we think he is. And see if he'll stop, or if there's a reason he's doing what he's doing."

Ben frowned a little at him, then realization dawned on his face. His expression turned pensive.

"Yeah, sure. Of course."

The room felt heavy. Jesse got to his feet, heading for the bathroom. "I can talk with him. It'll be safer that way."

Ben's expression immediately tightened, but he stayed silent. Claire looked between them, settling on Ben when Jesse's back slipped through the door. She had the distinct feeling she was missing something. The door clicked and moments later the sound of the shower filled the hotel room with white noise. Ben settled on the edge of the bed, running both his hands through his hair.

"God, having morals really sucks sometimes."

Claire just raised her brows at him, even if he wasn't looking. The phrase _'preaching to the choir_' slipped into her mind, but she ignored it, scooping up the car keys from the edge of the table. Ben looked up at the sound, his eyes tracking her movements.

"You're going?"

"Chinese food," she answered softly, but blunt—like it were a fact of life. Threading on her coat, she pulled her hair out from the hood, looking at him in askance. "Moo shu?"

Ben rolled his lips, eyes moving to the closed bathroom door, then moving back to her. "We could order in," he supplied, the words stilted like he wanted to say more but couldn't bring himself to say the words. Claire's lips pressed, but after zipping her coat, she crossed to the bed, kissing him softly.

"It's across the street. You can come with, if you want."

Ben visibly relaxed a little more before a faint color trailed a bridge across his nose.

"Sure. Just lemme leave a note for Jess." 

* * *

><p>Armed with several spikes of holly, two to a person, the pack of hunters surrounded the bar. Michael and his partner were already inside, keeping tabs on the bartender and keeping a look-out for any potential victims. Kat was on stand-by just down the street, ready to come rolling at a moment's notice. That left Ben and Jesse alone in the car just outside the building, waiting for their cue. Ben could feel the tension between them, as tight as a bow string, though he didn't dare speak. After a long while, Jesse reached for his hand, threading his fingers. Some of the tension faded, and Ben gave his hand a light squeeze in response.<p>

"Feels weird, after being away from it for a couple months," Jesse said quietly.

Ben hummed in answer, keeping his eyes on the door and his other hand firmly wrapped around the spike.

"It was only a matter of time, though," he replied. "Honestly, it's a wonder we hadn't gone stir-crazy yet."

Jesse licked his lips. "I kind of liked it."

Ben looked sideways at him for a moment, then turned his eyes out the window again. His heart ached at the words. "I know you did," he said at last.

"With Claire, though... We'll have to hole up again. Maybe even for a year," Jesse said, his stomach rolling for reasons that had nothing to do with being about to chat with an evil snow fairy. "You going to be alright with that?"

"I don't know," Ben said honestly. "This has been my whole life, man. It's kinda hard to do the domestic thing after everything I've seen." He took a breath, then let it out. "We'll have to really talk about it. Not just shove it under the rug, like we've been doin' the past few months."

Jesse nodded, keeping his his eyes on the door even as his heart sank. Part of him always knew that it wouldn't last, but he had been hoping for longer. "They're taking a while. Think I should go in?"

Ben gave Jesse's hand one last squeeze before pulling it away and fishing his phone out of his pocket to shoot Michael a text. There was a four second delay before the phone buzzed back in response.

"Mike says they're tracking a vic right now. We'll give 'em ten more minutes."

Letting out a breath, Jesse quirked a smile at him. "Any advice on talking down a monster?"

"Pretty sure quoting _Spider-Man_ isn't gonna cut it this time," Ben answered, dropping the phone into his pocket and reaching over to give his knee a light goosing.

Jesse felt his face grow a bit warm, but he grinned wider as he shrugged. "You never know."

Ben rolled his lips lightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "It's really a situational thing, man. Not gonna lie: I've had more rejections on the offer than I've had acceptance. And he's a fairy; it's very probable he's gonna say something about being older than dirt and who are we, as puny mortals, to tell him what to do."

Smile faltering, Jesse shrugged again. "Won't get my hopes up, then."

Ben nodded, then leaned sideways to press a kiss to Jesse's temple. "You'll do fine. I trust you." A drunk stumbled out through the front doors, and two seconds later Michael and his partner came swooping in on either side of him, leading him off in the direction of their car.

"Showtime."

And there was the stomach tumbling that had everything to do with an evil snow fairy. Giving Ben's hand a squeeze, Jesse opened the car door and stepped out into the snow.

The bar was far from crowded and unnervingly quiet. Most of the people there seemed to be drinking alone, spaced out along the bar, a couple in booths. Johnny Cash crooned over crackling speakers, and one of the lights flickered overhead. Jesse took this all in a sweep before heading to the bar, meeting the bartender's eyes. The old man scowled back at him.

"Last call, everybody," he called out gruffly. "Finish up and get goin'. Y'don't gotta go home but'cha can't stay here."

Jesse leaned on the bar as the grumbling patrons started shuffling out. He tried to keep his expression placid even though his heart had kicked into high gear. Clearly this Jack knew something was up.

"Didn't need to clear out on my account," he said.

"I'm not an idiot, kid," Jack said gruffly. He brought up a hand and flicked it, and the door locked with a resounding click behind Jesse. The air felt as though it had chilled by ten degrees. "Though I'm beginnin' to wonder if you might be."

Straightening, Jesse held up his palms. "I'm just here to talk."

"Y'already did, the day you an' yer hunter buddies came traipsing into my bar," came the growled out reply. "If it was just talkin', y'would've not came back."

"If I was planning on hurting you, I wouldn't have just waltzed in here like that," Jesse pointed out. "And hell, I wouldn't've come back either, if you weren't killing people."

Jack gave him a mean-spirited smile. "What's it matter to you, kid? I'm a goddamn super-hero to humankind. Those assholes, they wouldda been rapists and thieves and politicians one day. Sometimes all three at once. I'm doin' your pals a favor."

"That's not how it works," Jesse said, his expression hardening. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, you don't punish people for things they might do. We certainly don't. If you tell me tonight that you will stop killing people, then we're fine. You walk away, we walk away, and you get to keep on living."

"Until someone else decides that I should be punished for my past transgressions, y'mean," Jack countered. The room chilled further, and all the windows began to frost over. "No, I don't think so. This ain't a forgiving world, kid. It's kill or be killed, and I ain't about to let anyone kill me first."

Jesse's breath came out in a cloud. "If you stop killing and leave, no one will ever find you. But the more people you kill, the more attention you'll draw to yourself. Killing me now won't make that any less true."

Jack sneered. "Does this speech work often?"

Clenching his hands to keep them from shaking, Jesse shrugged. "Worked on me."

"How ironic," the old man drawled, completely unaffected by the cold. "Given that you could easily keep running for the rest of your life and never be traced."

That sent a chill through Jesse that had nothing to do with the cold. "How... What are you talking about?"

"Like attracts like, kid," Jack told him. "I felt you the moment you edged the town. It's been a long, long time since I've met a cambion."

Jesse stepped back, his movements stiff and sluggish. "W-well now you've met another one. But you should take my word for it: life's better when you play by the rules."

The air shifted, and then Jack appeared directly in front of him. "Be careful who you threaten," he growled.

"That wasn't a threat," Jesse said, his voice sharp as he stumbled back.

The old man's eyes seemed to glow around the edges. "This is the part where I make a joke about that being a stake in your pocket or are you just glad to see me."

"And y-you're turning this place into a freezer. We both have weapons, but at least I haven't d-drawn mine." Even his growing panic didn't seem to get the blood moving faster through him, his brain fuzzing at the edges. He kept backing up, throwing a hand behind him, and when his fingertips brushed glass, it was so cold it stung.

"Them's the breaks, kid," Jack told him. "You make someone feel threatened, they're either gonna fight'cha or run. I don't run. So to answer your question, no. I'm not gonna play by your rules. Mine are older. And given the fact that your friends have kept my food away from me..." his lips twisted in a frightening smile. "I might just have to eat you instead."

Jesse shifted to the side, reaching back to try to find the door. "Th-th-that's about the worst come-on I've ever heard."

"What can I say, I have a thing for celebrities," the old man said. "Your story is famous, after all."

That actually got Jesse to pause. "S-seriously? D-didn't think anyone who wasn't a demon would give a damn."

"There's other people who live on this rock aside from humans. But it was seeing the Lady in the flesh that clued me in. Congratulations, by the way. Her birth will bring hope to all of us." He smacked his lips. "Good thing about freezing to death, though, is that you don't feel it when I rip your soul from your body and eat the parts that don't matter. Shall we, then?"

The window suddenly exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere as Ben burst through it. Jack didn't even have enough time to turn his head before the other man was rushing him, the holly stake thrust straight into his chest. Jack inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide, before his body — clothes and all — turned into ice, splintering into a million pieces and falling to the floor.

Back pressed against the wall, Jesse felt the tension in him give way and he slid to the floor. He looked over at Ben, knowing he should feel gratitude or at least relief, but Jack's words just swirled through his head like a confusing slush. Ben was at his side in an instant, arms sliding around him and pulling him to his feet.

"What'd I tell you about playing with the presets on the A/C?" he said with a slight flippant tone.

Jesse blinked at him, not sure what he was talking about, but it didn't matter. Ben oozed warmth. Jesse nuzzled him, though the heat practically burned. "Sorry. I w-was trying to open the door for you, but I couldn't find it."

"Hypothermia does that," Ben pointed out, all but dragging him through the door and leading him to the car. "Let's get the fuck outta Dodge, yeah?"

_The Lady... Her birth..._ Frowning, Jesse breathed, "Yeah. Works for me." 

* * *

><p>The air was hardly cold, the sun beaming from a blue sky and glinting off the melting snow. From where Jesse stood, just off to the side and slightly behind Ben, he could see the light on Claire's face. She practically glowed. And when they settled into place and her eyes met Ben's, Jesse could see the corner of his smile.<p>

He'd been nervous before, almost as much as Ben, although the flask in his pocket had helped hide it at least. But now, as Father Harry began to speak, a softness settled over him. Over all of them. Even Kat, standing behind Claire, didn't look as rough as usual. He couldn't help but smile.

Welcomes and opening prayers were gentle and warm, given with Harry's fuzzy smile and squint into the afternoon sun. Claire had picked a shortened, personalized religious cadence for the ceremony, which left out the signature time-consuming practices of kneeling, readings, Communion, candle lighting, and everything else. Barely five minutes into her arrival at Ben's side, they begun the meat of the service.

In a voice that was more air and warmth than actual timber, Claire repeated the time-honored vows as the priest read them to her. There was a subtle quiver just beneath her skin as she slipped the square-cut silver ring on Ben's finger, then curled hers under his grasp. The breeze was mild and fresh, billowing gently in the lace veil and spun-sugar dress, as if fixing it for photographers that certainly were not there.

Father Harry turned toward Ben in his turn, wearing the same delighted smile. "Benjamen." Claire looked from the priest to Ben's face, curious and expectant. Ben's heart, already racing at what was happening, doubled its pace.

"Here goes," he murmured quietly, swallowing before he started. "Claire, before you found me, I was lost in the woods, searching for something I never thought I'd find. It was dark and ugly, but you put so much light in me that life became bearable again." His grip on her hands tightened slightly. "You are wonderful, smart, amazing, and so strong, but not only that... you put up with me. I promise now and forever to stand beside you, to fight for you and with you but never against you, to keep you together and hold you up, and to never stop loving you, through heaven and hell, for now and always."

Father Harry's smile warmed, mostly in his eyes, while Claire's smile bloomed like the first daisy in spring. She stayed dutifully quiet, but blinked a drop of moisture from her eyes, her bottom lip caught lightly in her teeth. Watching, Jesse felt his face flush as he looked to the ground, but only an instant. While the moment felt intensely intimate, they had invited him to witness it, and that only made him feel all the warmer. Ben slid the braided diamond band onto her finger, then reached up with his free hand and grazed his thumb against her cheek to wipe her tears away. The smile that lit his face felt like it would never leave.

Still silent, Claire released her lip to shape a soundless '_I love you_' before turning back toward Harry when he began to speak. "Then by the power vested in me, to God and those gathered present, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride—y'know, if you _want to_," he added with a cheeky grin, obviously pleased with how funny he thought he was. Ben grinned widely, leaning in to claim her mouth in a kiss, his arms wrapping around her tightly, stifling her quiet noise of delight. Claire smiled against his lips, unable to contain it for that brief second.

The rest of the brief afternoon went by in a blur. Kat had already had an inkling as to what was going down afterward and — like any good friend — paused just long enough to give Claire the item the two of them had discussed when they'd gone out for lunch the day before, then promptly left. The ride back to the hotel felt more like a surrealist dream, but once they were back inside and the door warded up, Ben felt his pulse racketing up again.

Jesse's pulse, on the other hand, had been going haywire since they first hopped in the car. Inside he was a mashed together mess of conflicting emotions. He'd snuck a couple more pulls from his flask before they left, but it didn't feel like nearly enough. He didn't know what they were going to do, or even what he was going to say, except that there was no way it could hold a candle to what Ben and Claire had just done. At a loss but unable to stay still, he stripped off his jacket.

Claire brushed the small of his back with her hand in passing, drifting in a small cloud of airy fabric and lace toward the bathroom counter, where she had to unpin the thing off her head before it gave her a headache. Ben followed her with his eyes even as he slid his arms around Jesse and pulled him into an embrace.

"You all right?"

Letting out a sharp breath, Jesse's hands automatically rested on Ben's hips. "Yeah. Yes. That was just— that was really nice. And you, what you said, that was good."

"Thank you for being there," Ben told him, brushing his lips against Jesse's temple. "Meant a lot."

Jesse's heart fluttered and he felt his tension ease slightly. "Thank you for having me there."

"You know, we have something for you," Claire added softly from the other side of the room, having freed herself from the veil, and was trying to fold it. Her eyes cut to Ben's, her brows lifted. He smiled in answer, though it dimmed apprehensively when he brought his eyes back to Jesse's again.

"So long as you're still up for it," he said quietly. "Are you?"

Swallowing hard, Jesse nodded. "'Course I am. But I..." He looked between them, his stomach twisting. "I didn't get you anything. I wanted to, I did, but I didn't know— There wasn't time—"

"Jesse," Claire soothed, crossing to them both. She settled in a natural place against Ben's side, and her fingers found one of Jesse's hands and laced their fingers together. "Take a breath. Nothin' but us, now."

"You being here is enough," Ben added, his lips once again brushing against his temple.

Squeezing Claire's hand, Jesse brought it up to his lips. "You were beautiful up there," he said quietly. "Both of you." The warmth that spread with her smile was incredibly comforting. Feeling both of them at each side of her, even if it was simple brushes at first, Claire felt earnestly care free.

She reached into Ben's suit pocket, shooting a genuinely giddy wink up at him. Her fingertips may have wandered a little before fishing out the little box hidden inside, based on the look Ben gave and the way his breath suddenly staggered for no apparent reason.

"We will always be yours," he said a little breathlessly.

Jesse blushed deep, a smile finally easing onto his face. "You got me one, too?"

"Something like that," he said as Claire cracked the ringbox open. A white gold ring circled by black diamonds gleamed in the light filtering in through the window.

His eyes going wide, Jesse turned in Ben's arms, staring at the ring and then looking between them. "Wow. That's... wow."

His reaction only made the smile on Claire's face bigger. She plucked the ring from its velvet cushion and brought it to Jesse's left-hand finger, bringing herself closer to him in the process. She nosed in close, smiling against his lips much the same way she had with Ben.

"We love you," she whispered, only soft because of the lovely quiver in her chest. Ben's hands settled on her hips from around Jesse's frame, pulling the three of them even closer.

"Now and always," he added, borrowing from his vows to Claire.

A lump seemed to seize in his throat, and for a moment Jesse could hardly breathe. He swallowed hard, the little added weight around his finger anchoring him. "I love you, too," he croaked. "Whatever happens, I'll love you forever."


	2. Deleted Scene: Stress Release

It took another fifteen minutes of driving through town, but traffic was thin and the lights set up on a blinking yield system, making the ride that much quicker. Ben parked on the basement level, tugging out the keys and shoving them into his pocket wordlessly. Jesse watched him, his heartbeat already ratcheting up. His hand slid higher as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Ben's mouth.

"This the kind of shenanigans you'n Claire used to get into while I was at home workin' hard?" Ben asked with a low chuckle, turning into the next kiss as he slid one hand up the inside of Jesse's thigh.

Jesse felt warmth bloom across his face, for more reasons than one, but he just murmured into the kiss. His hand moved between Ben's legs, the heel giving a quick, hard rub. Ben's hips canted up into the touch and he inhaled sharply, but chuckled again with the exhale.

"You are so predictable," he said against Jesse's mouth as he deepened the kiss briefly. "It's a wonder we ever get anything done."

While he knew it wasn't meant as a slight, Jesse felt an uncertain little twist at the words. Deepening the kiss, his hand worked vigorously until he pulled back, breathless. "We could stop now if you like."

Ben grabbed for his wrist, immediately pulling it back and shoving it past the waistband of his slacks. Rutting up hard, he said, "I'm not walkin' in there with wood, you freaking tease. Finish what you start."

Grinning, Jesse curled his hand around him, his rhythm firm but slow. "I dunno. Might be fun, watching you try to hide it behind a briefcase, brushing lightly against you each chance I got, seeing how crazy I could make you."

"Fun for _who?_" Ben countered in a lust-rough voice, crushing his mouth to Jesse's as he twisted one fist into his hair and thrust upward into the warm palm torturing him. Losing himself in the kiss and upping the pace of his hand for a bit, Jesse finally pulled his hand away, only to work at Ben's fly. The younger man's breath hitched with anticipation and he broke the kiss, his lips moving against Jesse's jaw.

"God, yes," he breathed out in approval. "Want you so bad."

With an affirmative hum, Jesse pulled back, bowing his back, his hot breath spreading over the head of Ben's freed cock. He paused there, just a moment, before taking Ben in his mouth. Ben barely hesitated before thrusting up deeply, his hand sliding into Jesse's hair with the faint notion to hold him still.

"This is what you do to me," he told him, his voice low and needy. "Can't even drive through a snowed-out little podunk town without wanting to fuck you senseless, and you just _want_ that, don't you?"

Jesse groaned against him, dipping his head further. His hands fisted in Ben's pants as he curled his tongue around the length of him. Ben tilted his head back and closed his eyes, giving into the urge and thrusting up greedily into the wet heat.

"I _know_ you do," he groaned. "Fuck, Jess, you're— _yeah,_ just like that, so fuckin' perfect." Switching hands in Jesse's hair, Ben moved one hand down his back, twisting uselessly into the other man's shirt before trying to move around the front. The steady movement made it next to impossible in the tight confines of the car, and he let out a breath of frustration.

Feeling him tense, Jesse pulled back just enough to say, "What's wrong?"

"Don't stop," Ben said quickly, thrusting upward again. "I just— wanted... fuck, you know me, can't ever just take, gotta give." The last part he said with a breathless laugh as he flattened his hand against Jesse's head, sliding it through his hair and then back up through it again. It was finally getting long enough for him to get a good grip.

With a breath of a laugh, Jesse took the opportunity to run his tongue up the length of Ben before taking him in his mouth again. It wasn't slow and steady any more. Hollowing his cheeks, Jesse bobbed eagerly and Ben let out a needy moan as he moved one hand to the back of Jesse's neck while the other twisted in his hair again.

"Yeah, that's it, that's it," he gasped. "Fuckin' _work_ for it, you— _god,_ yes." He started thrusting up shallowly in response to the increased pace, feeling the tightening in his gut twisting up harder and harder.

Jesse dipped down even further, his back aching but it didn't matter. Ben hit the back of his throat with every thrust and he just wanted more, for Ben to fuck his mouth until he came screaming. His hand started rubbing Ben's thigh in time with him. Above him, Ben brought his eyes down to watch, the windows of the GTO steamed up with his heavy breathing. The angle was just right to see his cock sliding effortlessly past Jesse's lips, and Ben swept the hair away from his face for a better view as his thrusts deepened impulsively.

"_Yes,_" he hissed out, feeling the rapid rush. "Yes, ye— _fuck, Jess, I'm—_" The words dissolved into wordless cries as he came, his body arching into the intense sensation as it flooded him. Swallowing eagerly as the heat hit him, Jesse didn't stop, milking Ben for all he was worth. As the last shiver of pleasure wracked through him, Ben let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as a new wave of need hit him.

"Sit up," he said, his voice a touch deeper and gritty. "Gimme that hard fuckin' cock, I want it."

Pulling wetly away from Ben, Jesse obeyed, working open his pants. Ben grabbed his face and kissed him hard and demanding, his fingers twisting up in his hair. When he felt Jesse's shoulder's shift with the motion of pulling himself free, Ben finally pulled back. One hand braced across his legs as he circled his lips around the head of Jesse's cock and dove down as deeply as he could. Jesse's eyes rolled and he gave a sharp gasp, his hips thrusting.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned, twisting his hands in Ben's hair. Ben slid his other hand down to palm his balls, following the motion of Jesse's thrusts as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked vigorously.

With a hiss at the cool touch, Jesse squirmed and began to thrust harder. His head was already swimming, Ben's taste still in his mouth. He rolled his eyes down, watching Ben, his ass clenching. "I love you," he breathed. "I love your fucking mouth and how you take me every way you can and how I just want you on me all the time."

Ben moaned in answer, tilting his head back and off to the side to give him a better view, his lips and tongue mapping down the length of him before he came back up to circle his tongue over the sensitive head. Whimpering with need, Jesse thrust into the heat.

"Don't tease," he said, twisting his hand harder in Ben's hair. That pulled a low chuckle out of him as Ben dipped low again, the hand braced across Jesse's legs clenching to fight off the gag reflex as he did it two more times before pulling back again. His hand moved up from where it'd been stroking Jesse's balls, circling at the base and pumping upward to meet his mouth. The dual sensation, hot and chill, made Jesse's head fall back against the seat.

"Yes, like that, so fucking much," he said, his hand pushing Ben's head instinctively down. Ben followed through with the motion, his clenched fist flattening to grip Jesse's inner thigh. With each deep plunge he twisted his hand up to meet him, nearly pulling away on the first few bobs in order to force Jesse's hand to press him back again. Eagerly taking control, Jesse's eyes rolled up, glancing out the windshield at the cement wall then to either side at the cars that boxed them in. Anyone could come back to those cars, at any time, and see him fucking Ben's mouth. See Ben taking him so deep and so greedily. With a strangled groan, Jesse's other hand gripped to Ben's hair as well, holding him still as his hips snapped up twice more before he came. Ben's hands moved to his upper thighs, kneading the tense muscle as he milked Jesse dry. When the hands in his hair slackened he carefully pulled back, tucking Jesse away before pressing a kiss to his inner wrist.

With a contented hum, Jesse pulled him up to take his mouth in a languid kiss. He smiled when he pulled back, his breath still warm on Ben's lips. "We're so fucked up."

Ben gave a laugh at that, sliding one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and kissing him a little more deeply in response. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, nose to nose with him. With a relaxed sign, he finally detangled himself from the awkward sideways embrace, for all that it felt so wonderful.

"Back to the grindstone."

It was hard not just saying they should drive home and take the day, but they still had a job to do. Turning the rearview mirror his way, Jesse fingercombed his hair, which pulled another breathless laugh out of Ben.

"You couldn't look bad if you tried," he reassured him with a goose to Jesse's knee. "C'mon, pretty boy."

Jesse gave a snort in return. "Well we can't all be happy walking around with just-fucked hair."

Shutting the door hard behind him, Ben made sure to hip-check Jesse on their way through the sliding entrance doors as he subconsciously ran his hands over the top his hair.


	3. Episode 2: Hair of the Dog

A lone cloud drifted across the full moon, smattering patterns across the bare branches and frosted ground of the woods. The air was sharp with cold, and aside from the occasional rush of wind, nothing made a sound.

"Fuck's sake, Paul, keep the light on the valve and outta my face!" Roan barked, leaning deep in the guts of his truck's engine.

"Don't fuckin' yell at me!" Paul snapped back, bringing the light back around. "It's bad enough the goddamn truck broke the hell down without you yelling, asshole."

"If you'd keep the light in place, this would go faster." Roan winced, his fingers numb as they worked. "And Mason's the one who wanted to hit the January hunt, so be pissy with him."

"Trust me, I wi—"

The horn going off cut him off, scaring them so badly that they both jumped, followed by muted laughter from the man still inside the truck.

"Don't you fuckin' fall asleep, you bastard!" Paul shouted, pointing at him through the windshield. "So help me god, I will light your fucking hair on fire!"

"Gonna have him push the fucking truck back himself," Roan grumbled before pulling back. He raised his voice. "Try 'er now!"

Mason turned the key in the ignition, but the gears ground together uselessly before he stopped.

"It's still broken!" Mason's muted voice shouted through the window.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Paul shouted back.

"Fuck!" Roan kicked hard at the bumper, taking a couple deep breaths. "We're gonna have to just leave the deer and call a cab or something."

"Fuck that, man," Paul said fiercely. "I'm not leaving the deer. That's too much meat to waste, and on a lucky shot to boot. No way."

"Then I hope you have a fun night sleepin' with her, 'cause I'm callin' a cab." Roan shut the hood before digging in his pocket for his phone.

"What if we call Mason's dad? He has a truck," Paul interrupted. "C'mon, don't leave me out here. Mason!"

The other man looked up, and Paul mimed a phone with his hand. "Call your dad!"

Roan scowled but let his phone be. "Whatever. I just wanna get out of here. And I gotta take a piss." He headed into the trees, out of their small circle of light.

Nothing in the woods stirred; no frozen leaves or even the branches, since the wind stretched between gusts. Only the sound of his footsteps disturbed the stillness, and when they stopped, there was little else besides the sound of a zipper.

And a growl.

Back at the truck, Paul watched as Mason flipped off his phone.

"How long?" he asked, brows arched and loud so he could be heard.

"Half hour. Shouldn't be any traffic. Think he's gonna ream my ass out for this one, though." Mason scowled at the wheel.

"But there's deer! He'll get over it," Paul said. He took a breath to add more, but a sudden scream in the woods cut him off.

Mason looked over sharp, his breath clouding the driver window. "He catch his dick in his fly or something?"

"Fuck if I know." Paul walked to the edge of the road in the direction Roan had gone, but didn't leave the pavement. "Roan! You okay!"

There was no answer. With a click, Mason opened the door and slid out of the truck, his expression tense. "Don't fuck with us, man! Not in the mood!"

Only stillness answered them; a frozen silence that stretched on for several heartbeats. A small crack, like a dead stick breaking on gravel sounded from the treeline, where two points of faint light appeared, then were gone. The next second, a blur of movement tackled Paul to the ground. Paul shrieked, trying desperately to shove the surprisingly heavy body off of him, but his shriek was cut off as it tore into his jugular.

With a scream, Mason scrambled back into the truck, slamming the door shut and reaching for the rifle they'd stowed in the backseat. Finding the actual rounds would be more difficult and he ended up crawling over his seat to dig for them.

In one hard, smooth motion, he was yanked from the cab by his feet. 

* * *

><p>"How do you feel about southern Texas?" Ben asked, his head tilted off to the side but didn't lift from the pillow on the bed. They had left Illinois the next morning after their private ceremony and were currently on their way to who knew where, with no real goal in mind.<p>

"S'warm?" Jesse murmured, dozing comfortably against Ben's shoulder.

"Bugs." Claire chewed on the end of a french toast stick soaked in warm syrup, fetched from the hotel's 'continental' breakfast bar. "Big ones. And snakes." In other words, things that could kill you by waiting in a shoe. They had enough to worry about.

"California? Could go to the beach," Jesse said, his mouth quirking up at the corners.

"You just wanna go surfing, you bum," Ben tossed back, giving him a poke in the the side, Jesse squirming in protest.

"I wouldn't mind the beach," Claire said distractedly, scanning through the news articles that flicked across her laptop screen.

"Florida's warmer," Ben pointed out. "The Atlantic is, I mean. Pacific's cold as a Jewish prom date. You don't wanna go surf in that in January."

"Don't care where; I'll take any beach," Jesse said, tilting his head to look at Ben. "This snow thing gets old fast."

"...huh." Claire was distracted from the conversation. She'd been reading through an article that caught her eye. "Iowa."

"Ain't a beach in Iowa." Ben craned his neck to look in her direction, tucking an arm beneath his neck. He recognized the look on her face and immediately frowned. "What's up?"

"'Two dead, one missing'—" Claire read off the headliner, then moved on to the description that really caught her eye. "—in what looks like 'cult activity'." She swiveled in the chair to look at both of them, lips pressed tight before she went on. "Their hearts were missing."

Jesse's breath stopped a moment, and then he let out a heavy sigh. "You had to go looking for something."

"I _wasn't_, actually..." Claire felt the need to defend herself for reasons she didn't understand. She turned back to the screen, pushing a hand through her hair. "Things just jump out. Call it habit."

Ben sat up, pulling back against the bed and watching the brief exchange silently with a frown. He and Jesse had talked about the three of them in the car just before they'd offed the fairy, but they had yet to actually get around to talking as a group. Maybe it was time.

Rubbing at his eyes, Jesse ran a hand through his hair. "We could call around, see if someone else can look into it."

"We can't keep just calling our friends and expecting them to do things for us," Ben said, his eyes on Claire. "Especially when they have their own cases to work. We're not informants; we're hunters."

Claire's lips thinned, pressed together tight. Things were going through her head that'd been there for months, pressing ever closer to the surface. They were going to come to this point eventually; she sighed and rubbed at her face.

"Look... I know I'm—gonna be slowing down soon." As if it hadn't already happened to some degree. "But until then, we gotta keep movin'; we may as well help when we can, _where_ we can." This was Claire's way of saying _I'm not useless yet_, a sentiment that may have come into her eyes.

Jesse picked at the covers, eyes focused on it. "Alright. But we should talk, about what we're going to do. I know none of us are really big on planning ahead, but if you're going to have that thing, we've got to figure out what we're going to do."

Claire bristled. "That _thing_?"

Ben had just barely resisted kicking Jesse the instant the words were out of his mouth, and Claire's immediate response was exactly why. He moved from the bed on automatic, going to Claire's side and sliding his arm around her.

Jesse's eyes flicked up to them but only for a moment, his jaw tightening. "Fine, that fetus, or whatever it is right now. Where are we going to be in six months?"

"That _fetus_ is your _child_, Jesse," Claire snapped, stiff under Ben's arm. She'd switched gears from compliantly suggestive to full attack alarmingly quick. "—now _and_ in six months, and the rest of your life—so I'd say the first thing we need to _talk about_ is you coming to grips with a few things."

"I've come to grips with it," Jesse said, eyes flashing as he looked at Claire. "Probably more than you. At least I know what to expect when it's born."

"Jess," Ben interjected, his voice nearly as angry as Claire's. "Stop. Unless you've been a damn psychic this whole time and never got around to tellin' us, nobody knows what to expect when this _kid_ is born. And even then, screw destiny in the face. This kid's only as good as we are."

"Jack said something to me," Jesse blurted. He'd been trying to think of a good way to bring it up, and this wasn't, but he'd make do. "Before you killed him. I think he was talking about the kid."

Claire didn't look like any of the tension had eased in her spine, but something changed in her eyes. Instinct, anger, and defensiveness now mixed with a scrap of the bad kind of curiosity.

"What did he say."

It had been cold, and Jesse couldn't be sure he hadn't started fading at that point, but he knew he couldn't just not say anything. "He was talking about me, that my story is famous. When I was surprised, he said seeing 'the Lady' confirmed it for him. Then he told me congratulations, and that...that the kid's birth would bring hope to us all. Or them all. I don't know which group he was talking about."

Ben stared at Jesse, blinking as he tried to process everything, then scowled.

"That doesn't change anything."

Claire looked a little more diffused, but she wasn't aware she was holding her breath until Ben had said something. She didn't say anything, just released a breath a little slower than usual.

_Yeah, Claire possibly birthing some twisted anti-Christ doesn't change anything at all._ Jesse wished there was someone to be proud of him for keeping that thought to himself.

"Yes it does. It means angels and demons aren't the only things that might be after this kid."

"And there's no possibility that he was fucking with you?" Claire injected, sudden as the thought popped in her head. "He was old as dirt, y'know... and that kind aren't exactly known for telling the truth."

"He knew enough to know you were pregnant and that it was mine. And if he was fucking with me, he wouldn't have talked around it. I didn't really figure out what he meant until after." Jesse's insides were winding up tighter and tighter.

"I repeat," Ben said a little more crisply. "That doesn't change anything. Did you miss the part where I said screw destiny in the fucking face? You get a damn choice, Jess. We all get a choice. It's called free will for a reason."

"For fuck's sake, no amount of choosing will stop things from hunting after you!" Jesse snapped, bolting to his feet. "I'm not saying that thing's going to be evil, I'm saying we have a shitstorm headed our way!"

"Except _one choice_," Claire said lowly, looking straight at him. "Right?"

Jesse's jaw tightened, his eyes focusing between them. "I just want us to be prepared. Whatever choice, we need to know the consequences."

"You don't think we can handle this?" Ben countered in the same hard tone.

Meeting his eyes, Jesse said, "I don't know. Mostly because we only have a vague idea of what's coming, though heaven and hell and everything in between is a rough estimate. Are you ready for that?"

"Exactly. When do we ever know _every_ consequence anyway?" A lot of the anger had sapped from Claire's voice, but it'd been replaced by something just as tense. "Look, we can start looking into whatever Jack said to you, but right now all we have is the word of a real nasty known liar who could probably smell this baby on me as much as he could that suede jacket liner."

"We also only have the word of a demon that the baby's mine. We could assume everyone's lying and the kid's going to be perfect and grow up to be a famous doctor-writer-astronaut. My gut tells me that neither of them were lying, so I'd rather be ready for the shitstorm and have it never come."

Ben's arm tightened around Claire, but he kept his eyes locked on Jesse's. "Claire is ready for this kid, and so am I. You're the only one who isn't prepared for it, and if that's the case, maybe you need to stop deflecting your shit on us and fix that. Nothing is getting solved the way things are now."

"Right. I'm the problem, and talking about what our lives are going to be like after it's born won't help anything," Jesse said, his words too angry to be dry. "Glad that's cleared up then."

"I signed up for this," Ben returned. "Whatever happens. Demons, angels, monsters, I don't give a rat's ass, I'll kill every single one of those sons of bitches. We're gonna keep livin' and keep fightin' the way we have since we started; that's not gonna change, even after this kid's born."

Something in the quick finality of Ben's words twisted in Claire's stomach. It came together, then. Things clicked in place where they'd only been generally positioned before.

She sucked in a breath and let it out slow, melting back into Ben and the chair. After a long pause, her eyes went up to where Jesse stood in front of them. "I'm sorry I snapped," she said in earnest, then rolled her lips and looked at Ben. "He's right on some things. I can't—I mean, I won't be able to keep up in a few months, and after the baby's born..."

"Then I'll protect you," Ben immediately finished for her. "That's my job."

"And when you're off hunting? Going to protect her then, too?" Despite the shortness of his words, some of the tension eased out of him. "Because you keep talking like you're going to do the same things you've always done."

Ben turned his gaze back to Jesse, his hands balling into at his sides. "If you're not gonna pick up the slack, then I'll be everything she needs me to be."

"Fuck you, man, I'll be there. The only difference between you and me is this—" he said, gesturing between them, "—is what matters to me. Not other people."

Ben reacted fiercely, his whole body winding tight as he retracted from Claire and started to take a step into Jesse's personal space.

"Whoa, just—hang on..." Claire said sharply, her hands up as she angled herself between both of them. Neither were directly addressed. "Look, I snapped... it was my fault, I'm sorry, and we're cooped up..." She looked between them, all scraps of anger gone. She just wanted peace now, at least enough to clear the air so she could think straight. "_Please_, let's just take a step back."

Jesse's jaw was tight and he kept his eyes locked on Ben for five seconds before breaking. He moved around both Ben and Claire, grabbing a seat at the table.

Swallowing, Claire went on, "None of us have been in this situation before... I'm just—I'm tryin' to roll with the punches as much as I can but—" But _what_? Hell if she knew. She just wanted something... "...I guess I'm just going with what's familiar. So I feel like I know what the hell I'm doing."

Ben clenched his jaw, remaining silent. He'd said everything he'd wanted to stay on the matter. After a moment, he finally replied, "I'll do whatever the two of you decide to do."

"Yeah, that won't breed resentment at all," Jesse said lowly.

"_Stop it_," Claire injected, obviously to both of them. She sank down on the edge of the unused bed, her shoulders hunched from fatigue. "Nobody meant anything by _anything_. Fuck different opinions - we're all on the same damn team."

"Well all I wanted was a game plan," Jesse said, a pout still in his voice though the anger had eased. "I need some idea of what we're going to do. I haven't even ever changed a diaper, for fuck's sake."

"And then you had to be insensitive as hell, as usual," Ben snapped. "Try and use your head before you go spewing shit."

"_I_ overreacted," Claire looked at Ben softly, not just for Jesse but appreciative of his defensiveness. Though it hadn't been addressed to her face, she could tell her swinging moods hadn't just been a figment of her imagination; she hated how they made her feel, but thinking about their effect on _them_? She rolled her lips, then actually cracked a tired smile. "And I actually haven't changed a diaper, either."

"We'll figure it out," Ben returned, his voice still holding an edge of agitation but tapering. "This doesn't have to be some huge thing. We _can handle this,_ but talking about it now when we still have six months to go is ridiculous. That's a lot of time."

Jesse's hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. He took a breath before speaking quietly. "Can I go for a walk?"

Whatever smile Claire had on her face had been gone before Jesse spoke, but he had her attention now. With a quick look up to Ben, she pulled in a breath, then gently spoke to Jesse.

"Tell me you're not angry, first?"

What was twisting in his stomach wasn't exactly anger, so he answered honestly. "I'm not."

Ben struggled to school his face into some other expression outside of a scowl, pushing down the paranoia in his chest. The fact that Jesse had asked to go meant he cared about whether or not they would mind; he still wanted to stick around. Wordlessly Ben nodded, but he kept his eyes pointed down, still feeling a twist of angry bitterness about Jesse's last direct words at him.

Without a word, Jesse headed for the door, tugging back the salt tape just enough so he could get by. He didn't take his coat. 

* * *

><p>It was impossibly dark, the stars casting only a faint light through the clouds, but Jesse knew the dark smudge in the distance was an outcrop of buildings. He only hoped he was close enough.<p>

[_Ruth? Are you awake?_]

Even from a distance, he could feel the answering pulse of warmth like a heartbeat. In a matter of seconds she was in front of him, her pale blue night dress shifting slightly with the displaced air.

"You're not due for another three days," she said breathlessly. "Something wrong?"

"No." His expression was pinched. "Kind of. I'm sorry. You were sleeping. Just, you're the only one I can really talk to."

"I wasn't sleeping," she reassured him, already pulling him against her in an embrace and burying her face into his neck. [ _Felt uneasy all day like something was gonna happen wasn't sure what but I knew something I'm so glad you're here._ ]

His arms wrapped around her, tighter than usual, his expression crumpling with relief. [ _Glad I'm here, too._ ] He held her there a while before finally pulling away. And then it all came tumbling out - the wedding and the baby and the fight. He hardly noticed when they started walking, or when they stopped and sat on the beach, high tide nearly reaching their toes.

"It's just, sometimes we're there, together, and you can just feel it. Like we're one person. And then something like this happens, and the way they look at me, like I'm a...an alien. I feel left out all over again," he said quietly.

Her hand slid into his, lacing their fingers together, small and warm but with a firm grip. Her mind was quiet in comparison to its long, unending ramble, but her emotions continued to flow through him in a steady swell.

"Keep talking," she encouraged gently.

His hand tightened on hers, his eyes closing, letting her warmth spread over him. "Ben keeps talking like things aren't going to change. But I know they are. Even if it was just a human baby, everything would change. All I want is some idea of what we're going to do. Just talk about it, but they won't. It's like we're in a room with the walls slowly closing in, and they're saying, oh, don't worry about that, there is plenty of time." His breath hitched in what might have been a laugh. "I've never planned for anything in my life, but right now, I need something to look to."

Her hand squeezed his lightly and she turned her head to look at him, the moonlight reflected in her eyes. "Are you unhappy?" she asked quietly. "With them. With having a child."

"No." His voice was sharp. "I'm happy with them, I am. I just— is it so wrong not to have feelings for your future kid? It's hardly more than a blob of cells."

Ruth let go of his hand, but rather than pull away, she moved so that she was facing him, her back to the water as it raced up to her sides and licked the bottom of her night dress.

"I wouldn't know," she told him. "I wasn't raised to be human. I don't know how love works. All I've ever known is instinct, and what I was conditioned to feel." Her hands came to rest on his knees. "But if instinct is tied up to real love... maybe you aren't supposed to know it until you meet it."

Jesse's eyes locked on hers, the words sinking into his core like a small spark. Then he was scrambling to his feet, pulling her up as well. "Shit, don't sit in the ocean. It's the middle of the night, you'll get a cold."

The surprise on her face was clear, but the moment they were standing she only smiled at him, wide and full of bright teeth.

"I'll only get cold if I want to be cold, Jess," she told him. The tone of her voice sounded more like she was sharing a secret than explaining something to him. She found his hand and gave it a little pull, putting a faint _push_ in her voice. "You need to relax. Come with me."

He cocked his head to the side but easily relented, following along and not letting go of her hand. In a matter of moments they were waist-deep in the water, which was oddly warm but soothing nonetheless. She stepped closer, embracing him again.

"Close your eyes."

Jesse only hesitated a moment before complying. The air between them grew silent save for the sound of the water, rushing past them and receding, like it had for thousands of years and like it would continue to do long after they were gone.

[ _So long as you want it, you can have anything._] Her thoughts were soft, just barely registering above the audible sound of the waves. [ _If you want this to be chaos, then it will be chaos. If you want it to be bliss, it will be bliss. All that is solid melts into air._ ]

The world seemed to narrow, and Jesse spread to meet it. They swayed slightly with each wave, her words filling in the rhythm. He couldn't help but smile, his eyes still closed. "The world is what you make it?" he said quietly.

"All the more true with us," she replied, her lips brushing against his throat.

The world snapped back into focus, Jesse taking a step back. "Ruth?"

Surprise once again registered in her eyes, but only for a moment before her face evened out again. The steady pulse of her emotions quickened, love and longing the top notes to the beat.

[ _Just want you to relax is all to be happy again every time I see you there's sadness and pain and I love you I love you I love you so much anything you need anything you want—_ ]

She inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry," came the breathless reply. "I... I'm sorry."

He shifted back further, though he settled a hand on her shoulder. His head spun from emotional whiplash and the water was starting to feel cold. Breathing deep, he said, "It...it's alright. I didn't know. Just... I love you, Ruth, but like a sister. Nothing else."

Her round blue eyes widened, then a sinking sensation dropped between them like a stone.

"That's fine," she murmured. "I'm your second. Whatever you need me to be, that's what I'll be."

He smiled, but there was no denying the twist of loss in his stomach. Part of him had known or at least suspected that Ruth's feelings for him were stronger than they should be, but he'd been able to ignore that before. Now he couldn't. He'd lost the only person he could talk to when things got tough, all because he let the situation get to a point where she thought it was alright.

"It's fine. It really is," he lied. "I should let you get to bed, though."

Before he had the chance to move or get away, she grabbed his hands quickly.

"You think so loudly," she told him, the corner of her mouth turning up. "You haven't lost me, Jess. I'm always going to be yours, no matter what."

"Ruth. That's not what I want." He gave her hand a squeeze. "The whole point of this is that all of you will eventually be able to go out and live your own lives. Not stay tied to me. You need to be able to think for yourself."

"I'm not a foot soldier," she said, pulling her hands free. "I'm different."

"I know. And I wouldn't have been able to do anything without you. You're amazing," he said honestly. "But this isn't a war any more. I'm not a general, and I don't need a lieutenant. Eventually, you need to take charge of your life. Make your choices without me."

Her eyes moved rapidly between his, her chest hitching as something dawned on her face. [ _No no no no no no no—_ ]

"This is what I want," she said quickly. "I want to be here. I want to be this. Don't take that away from me. It's all I have."

"_Shh_, it's okay," he soothed, reaching out to take her wrist. "Nothing's happening right now. We have to teach these kids how to live like humans. But then I'll set the older ones up in the world, and then they'll be on their own. And when the last one is grown up, you'll finally be free. You'll be able to do whatever you want."

"You're not _listening_ to me," she returned, leaning into the touch rather than resisting it and pressing close so they were chest to chest again. "_This is what I want_. I'm too old, Jess. I was the first of this generation. They made me for you. They made all the others to follow you, but they made me _for you._"

Jesse's breath hitched, her desperate desire collapsing upon him. He could feel her heart beating in his ears. He quickly stepped back again, feet struggling in the sand.

"Look, we'll talk about this later, alright? There is no rush; we have plenty of time."

"I've always come when you called," she spoke over him, weight and desperation giving power to her words. "I've always done as you asked. Whatever you want or need, I'll be that for you, just— don't take that from me. Not after I've finally found you. _Please._"

"Okay, okay, you can stay with me!" Jesse said, desperate to have her panic stop swarming him. "Sorry! I didn't think that's what you would want, but sure, whatever you want to do."

The panic ebbed, but it still flitted beneath the surface like a fish swimming against the current. Goosebumps raced up her arms and all over her pale skin, which she hid by tucking her arms against her frame and dropping her gaze from his. He reached towards her but didn't touch.

"C'mon. Let's get you inside. I should probably head back anyway."

She nodded without looking up, taking wide, deliberate steps to get out of the water faster. The moment they were on the shore again, she bunched her night dress up around her, exposing her long and shapely legs. The moment she let the fabric drop again, it was dry. Jesse deliberately looked the other way, not bothering to do anything about the jeans that clung to his legs.

"So. Thanks. For coming out when I called," he said, the words stilted.

[ _You're already pulling away after everything we've done after everything I've done and there's nothing I can do to stop it nothing I hate them—_ ]

Her hands came up and tightened in the hair at either side of her head and she let out a small, helpless sound.

"Ruth, please," he said, touching her arm, but she pulled away from him as though he'd burned her. "Don't. This isn't about them. And I'm not pulling away. I just don't want to hurt you."

The last words barely left his lips before she was gone.

Jesse's stomach clenched hard, Ben's words coming back to him. _"Try and use your head before you go spewing shit."_ First he'd angered Ben and Claire, now he'd upset Ruth. He'd hurt everyone that mattered to him. Despite the cold, he sat hard on the sand, wanting to leave but unable to go home. The only thing he could stand to face right now was the wide, black ocean. 

* * *

><p>Ben stared at the computer screen in front of him, resting the side of his head in one hand as his eyes scanned the text on the screen. He was about two hours in on researching this "Lady" business, and all that was coming up was a bunch of references to Wicca and the Goddess. It sounded like a bunch of crap.<p>

"This is a bunch of crap," he muttered out loud. "There's nothing older than the 1950s referencing this title, and it looks made up."

"Doesn't it _always_?" Claire was folding their laundry on the edge of the bed, still warm from the dryer. She was wearing a pair of his sleeper pants because the waist on hers felt too tight.

"No offense," he said gently, looking up. "I love you, and you're _my_ Goddess, but I'm pretty sure you're not—" he brought one hand up to make finger quotes, "—_the_ Goddess. It doesn't make sense. This fairy was obviously just fucking with Jess."

"Like I said, it sounded real to me," came the quiet reply.

Jesse stood in the bathroom doorway, where he hadn't been moments ago. He didn't look like the walk did him any good. In fact, his expression was more drawn. As he stepped into the room, he squelched.

Claire had a response on the tip of her tongue, but Jesse's appearance made it disappear. Instead, she pulled in a breath and put aside the pair of socks in her lap so she could stand. She cradled his cheeks with her hands and quickly kissed him, but squeaked shortly after realizing everywhere her clothing touched him was now damp.

"—the _hell_? ...why are you wet?" And _cold_.

He leaned instinctively into the heat of her hands before shrugging. "I wanted to go to the beach, so I went to the beach."

Ben watched from where he was sitting with a small frown, though he didn't say anything in response. If anything, his face felt like it was burning, and he quickly turned his eyes back to the screen once again.

Claire gave Jesse a small thoughtful smile, contemplating what he said before deciding there was no need for anything further. "Well. Here, just—get some warm clothes on." She turned to the folded pile, handing him jeans and socks.

Jesse gave her a small smile of thanks, though it didn't take the strain out of his face. He looked over at Ben, but when the man didn't look back, Jesse turned and shuffled into the bathroom, closing the door. Claire followed the click with a sigh.

"So what were you saying about me being a goddess?" she breathed flatly, coming up behind Ben's chair to wrap her arms around his front. She had her chin on his shoulder and her eyes on the screen, but they didn't stay there long. They closed, and she turned into his neck, much more comfortable.

Some of the tension in his shoulders faded, and after a moment he tipped his head back against her shoulder, though his eyes drifted off in the direction of the closed door.

"If you're looking for praise and worship, I'm your man." Claire smiled against his skin. He needed to shave, but she didn't care.

"I'll keep that in mind." A sigh broke her thoughts apart. "Maybe we should ask around."

"If that's what you want," Ben answered distantly.

The bathroom door clicked as it opened, Jesse's new pants and socks wonderfully warm. He had a bag in hand, too. He paused when he saw Ben and Claire's new configuration before moving forward.

"For you," he said, pulling a packet of Skittles out of the bag and holding it out for Claire. Then he pulled out a little plastic container that perfectly fit the slice of pie within. He set it beside Ben's computer. "And you. It's rhubarb."

Ben gingerly slipped out of the chair, stood, and pulled Jesse forward by the head in order to kiss him. Pulling a sharp breath of surprise, Jesse wrapped his arms around Ben, relief spreading to every limb. Claire eased back against the table, watching with a much easier smile. She also picked up the Skittles. When Ben finally pulled back, he knocked his forehead against Jesse's.

"Jerk."

Jesse closed his eyes, head still leaned against Ben's. "I'm sorry. You're right. I say stupid shit all the time."

"And yet I still love you," Ben replied. "Especially when you bring pie."

His mouth quirked but Jesse pulled back, his hand finding Claire's and giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry I said what I did. I wasn't really thinking. I know it's my kid, and I promise I'll be there." His smile widened. "It takes a lot to make you angry, so I definitely know it's my fault."

Claire smiled back, rolling a Skittle under her tongue. "S'okay. I'll just throw up on you next time."

He paused. "Is there an option number two?"

"Could throw up on you _now_?" Claire teased, popping another candy in her mouth and shooting him a wink. He was obviously forgiven.

Ben pulled away from the discussion long enough to get himself a fork from their meager kitchen and bring it back to the table he'd set up on.

"We've already generated a list of potential critters," he said conversationally. "It's written on the notepad if you wanna look it over."

Jesse's smile faded, his eyes flicking between them. "Can we talk first? I've got a few things that I need to say."

Claire leaned against the table, watching Jesse thoughtfully. Already Ben could feel apprehension twist in his stomach, but he fought it down with a bite of the pie.

"Fine by me."

Fidgeting, Jesse went over to sit by the bed. His eyes kept going between them and the floor. "This wouldn't change things between us, or how we work. But, considering the demons, and what Jack said, so it's safer for Claire, and for the kid... I think if people ask, we should say the kid is Ben's."

The mouthful of pie in Ben's mouth went from delicious to sawdust in less than a second. He swallowed hard, but the clogged-up sensation in his chest didn't fade.

"What's it gonna matter if everything chasing us will already know it isn't?" he asked.

"There might be more," Jesse said quietly. "We didn't know about Jack before. There could be more things. Or people."

"_People_?" Claire asked softly, the confusion evident in her eyes.

Jesse's eyes went to the floor. "Hunters found me before. I don't want to assume we're safe."

Claire pulled a breath in slowly, her eyes sliding to Ben as she settled on the edge of the bed next to Jesse. She put her hand on his back, drifting aimlessly.

"You were a kid when they found you," Ben argued. "It's not the same now."

His eyes met Ben's. "The police caught up with me once. Hunters might stumble on the trail sometime. And if they found me, and thought...anything about Claire... It might be paranoia. And we'll do what you two think is right. I just couldn't _not_ mention it."

Wrapping her arms around him from behind, Claire nuzzled in close and rested her chin on Jesse's shoulder. "I understand what you mean." She gave him a squeeze, and looked at Ben. "We'll go by our gut—?"

Ben nodded silently, his lips pressed into a thin line; clear evidence that he wasn't happy about the decision. Jesse didn't look entirely happy with it either, but he nodded as well. Then he took a deep breath.

"I also need to tell you something about Ruth."

Though she didn't move from her position, Claire suddenly felt very tense. _Uncomfortably_ tense, enough to seek outlet by rolling her fingers under to pop the stiffness in her knuckles. She'd never had a particular fondness for Ruth, but something about this mention of her; this time... She chalked it up to the hormones. "What about her?"

"I've always kind of known she fancied me," he said, the words coming out quick. "It's not really her fault, the way she was trained, and I'd thought it was okay, since it was in the background. But she acted on it this time. I set her straight and she won't do it again, but I wanted to be honest."

Ben remembered the moment where Ruth had come to him, to help him reclaim both Jesse and Claire from Belial's grasp. He remembered her declaration as clearly as when he himself had told Jesse how he felt. To hear that the Nephilim girl had feelings for Jesse really wasn't that surprising, though it did set a frown into Ben's brow. After months of visits, why had she decided to act on her feelings now? More importantly, why had Jesse not addressed them sooner?

"What do you mean 'acted on it'?"

Jesse shrugged. "It wasn't huge. Her lips brushed my neck. But yeah, that crossed the friend line."

Claire's jaw tensed. She cracked the knuckles on her other hand, but stayed quiet. Ben rubbed the back of his neck in thought, the frown deepening. He didn't like the way all of this settled in his stomach.

"Not sure I like the idea of you being alone with her."

"Me either," Claire uttered quiet near Jesse's throat. The tension hadn't faded - not at all - and it was getting hard to ignore. "And it has nothing to do with you. I trust _you_."

Jesse frowned slightly. "She won't do anything to me. She was basically programed to follow my every order. It'll be fine."

"Except for the whole part about how you're trying to teach them to think for themselves?" Ben pointed out.

"Rule number one was don't hurt people or make them do things." There was a little heat behind his words. "That's been pushed into their heads, Ruth most of all. Besides, even if she did try something, I'm stronger."

"We know," Claire injected quietly, easing away from him, but still close enough to touch. "It's just not—" Her freckles scrunched on her nose as she tried to fight the way she wanted to crawl out of her skin and figure out the right word. The effort caused her to clear her throat.

"_Ideal_." She looked at Ben. "—just being honest."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Ben pointed out, the words sounding more like a warning than a statement of fact.

Jesse took a breath before answering, so his words were measured. "And which one of us are you worried will make a mistake?"

For all that he knew that Jesse was making an effort not to upset him, Ben couldn't stop the way his insides twisted up, ready to fight. "Like I said," he repeated. "Everyone makes mistakes. Things aren't exactly going easy for any of us right now."

"What he means," Claire started, closing her eyes and pulling in a breath. "—is it's just another thing to worry about. It's a strange thing for Ben and I to deal with - you and Ruth."

Rubbing his legs, Jesse's expression was tight. "As far as I'm concerned, she's my sister. And we had a pretty fucked up father, so she needs my help. It is what it is."

Ben shrugged his shoulders dismissively, closing the lid to the pie container and standing to put it in the mini-fridge.

"Anything else we should know?"

"Not really." Jesse's voice went quiet again. "I just... I know you think seven months is a long time, but I'd feel better if we had some idea what we'd do when the baby is born."

Claire let a breath out slowly, standing from the bed to wander aimlessly around the room. Her legs felt tight; so did her shoulders, and her arms, and back... The change of subject would do her good.

"From what I've read, I should stop traveling at the eight month mark," she said quietly, stretching her arms high, then back behind her as she paced. "We'll have to find a safe-house by then."

Ben chewed his lower lip, half-tempted to offer to call his father, but unsure if that was the wisest decision. If Sam and Dean knew what the baby was capable of, they might be less inclined to help them.

Jesse nodded, perking up slightly. Talking about this was exactly what he wanted. "It should be somewhat isolated, but not so much that we can't get everything we need."

Turning to face them, Claire's eyes switched between both. She let her arms fall to her sides, a little less uncomfortable. A tentative half-smile on her face. "July 12." Her smile twitched, and her eyes slid toward the floor. "I did the math."

Ben offered her a faint smile he didn't quite feel, even though she wasn't looking at them. After a moment he moved to where she stood, stepping behind her and sliding his arms around her waist.

"Maybe Harry knows a midwife we can speak to."

Jesse hesitated where he sat and ended up staying put. Ben and Claire looked very nice there, together. "Do we... I mean, I don't know what my birth was like, if anything...strange happened."

Ben blinked in thought, pressed a distracted kiss to Claire's temple, then pulled away again.

"Times like this I wish I'd actually kept the book series with me..."

Claire, who looked pretty distracted herself, sank down into the nearby chair. She laced her fingers in her lap, watching them grip into the skin of her hands.

"I—I think I might know something."

Jesse stared at her. "What? How?"

She looked up at him, the lines of her throat tensed in a swallow before her gaze dropped again. Ben looked up from his search for his notebook, the task temporarily forgotten.

"The hell-bitch. I remember... things."

Ben's brows rose, his expression becoming concerned. "Yeah?" he encouraged gently.

"I don't know, it's... kinda out of context. But I think—I think your mom - your birth mom - forced the demon out. Not in any pleasant way, either," she said, looking at Jesse.

Jesse's expression pinched in discomfort. "She was possessed when I met her. But I guess it wouldn't make sense for the demon to have stuck around with her all those years."

"It _was_ in one of the books," Ben muttered mostly to himself. He dug his hands back into his duffel, finally pulling out his well-worn notebook and flipping through it. About halfway through, he paused and read quickly to himself.

"I'd forgotten about it. I remembered making a note because I thought road salt wasn't actually pure salt. It is, though. Learned that later." He brought the notebook over to Jesse and held it out for him. "Here."

Taking a sharp breath, Jesse looked at him, then the notebook, before taking it gingerly. There wasn't much written, which helped his stomach unclench. She'd been possessed the whole pregnancy, which he knew from Claire. He frowned, looking up at Ben.

"'My Son the Cambion'?"

"It's an out-of-print article," Ben clarified. "I haven't been able to find it online except in excerpts."

"Why didn't you ever mention?" Jesse tried to make it not sound like an accusation as he passed the notebook back. Ben's face flushed and he scowled as he took it, putting it back in his bag and keeping his eyes pointed downward.

"It was one of the first ones I'd read. I sorta forgot most of it."

Jesse swallowed down anything else he might say. It didn't matter now. "Not much about the baby. She lived, at least. It must've been bad, but that's probably got more to do with the demon than with me."

"Probably," Claire injected quietly. _I hope so_ was what she really wanted to say.

Jesse looked up at her. He slid from the bed to sit at her feet, hands resting on her thighs. "We can do this any way you want. Midwife, hospital, whatever. If something weird happens, I'll just make everyone forget. They'll think it was a normal delivery."

"She still has time to decide on that," Ben reminded him. He was just glad that all the talk about the baby being a 'thing' worth being afraid of was done.

Claire smiled down at Jesse, resting a hand over his on one leg before glancing to Ben in the same light. "I'll talk to Kat. We'll go from there."

"So can we talk about the case now?" Ben pressed, trying not to sound exasperated and failing.

Jesse closed his eyes, resting his head on Claire's legs. She gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Fine. Talk about the case."

"Like I said. There's a few options as to what it might be. Clues are hinting at either a witch, a kumiho, a skinwalker, or a werewolf."

"Probably need to see the scene, to get a better idea," Jesse said, though he didn't move.

Claire nodded, her eyes sliding up to Ben, still combing. It was as soothing for her as it was intended for him. "Check the moon phase."

Ben shook his head. "It's not gonna make that much of a difference. I already texted Dean about it, and he said that ever since the whole thing with the Mother of All Monsters, there've been reports of werewolves changing outside of the phases. It's more _likely_ they'll change then, but there's mood and sense triggers now."

Claire paused, mildly disturbed by this; what did that mean for other monsters? She sighed lightly. "So, back to working the scene then."

Jesse let out a long sigh. He pushed to his feet. "I'll pack." 

* * *

><p>Standing on a loan stretch of gravel road, surrounded by frost-tipped plants and the skeletons of ash and maple trees, Claire pushed her hands in the pockets of her parka, breathing a slow trail of steam out from her hood. It was eerie - not just the quiet, but how similar this road was to those webbing around Pontiac. She'd been a girl scout on roads like this. Had church picnics in fields like the one half a mile down this road.<p>

The police tape was gone, but it hadn't been hard to find the spot. Back-woods cops didn't care how bad their cruiser tires messed up the area, and there were bald spots of forest floor where there'd obviously been blankets of leaves scooped up for blood evidence. _Large_ ones.

"This was no ritual," she said quietly, sniffing against the chill. "What a mess."

On automatic, Jesse slung an arm around her shoulder, rubbing it for warmth. "It was the hearts missing, right? Probably not a kumiho, then."

"Depends on the legend," Ben pointed out. "We wouldn't know unless we found her changing somewhere, mid-prey."

"Didn't see any graveyards on the maps, but that doesn't mean much." Appreciative, Claire leaned a little into Jesse's shoulder, but turned toward the bend in the road. "Lots of old family farmsteads, there's old cemeteries all over the place. You hear that?"

Scowling slightly, Jesse looked back. "Just a car."

It was still a good distance away, but the sound of tires on gravel in the empty forest was loud and echoing. Ben frowned.

"How much y'wanna bet whoever's driving up would know?"

"S'worth a shot," Claire said, backing up to lean her ass against the GTO's door. Jesse joined her, happy to let Ben take the reins. A Chevrolet truck rounded the corner at a slow pace, and Ben immediately stuck his arms out and waved them. It came to a stop just to the left of him, and the driver worked down the window.

"Somethin' the matter?" he asked, his accent clearly placing him as a non-native of the area. The passenger in the cab, a short redheaded woman close to the driver's age, tilted her head at a deep angle, peering out at the strangers with an air of mild friendly curiosity.

Claire smiled at the driver, though she was immediately uncertain. That wasn't exactly an Iowa twang. "Just a little lost. You know this area?"

"Well enough," the man answered with the same polite smile. "If you're lookin' to get back to the main road, if y'go three miles up, there's a turn off—"

"We were actually looking for the cemetery," Jesse said, his smile sheepish. "We're doing some research on the history of the area and got turned around."

"The _cemetery_?" came a quirked response from the redhead, who looked at the man next to her, puzzled. She also had an accent, lilting and sing-songy. Obviously Irish. "Might'cha mean the Presbyterian church yard in town? Yer way off, luvs."

Jesse frowned in puzzlement. "You sure there isn't one closer? Do you know the area well?"

The man nodded. "It's been..." he looked sideways at the passenger. "Six years, thereabouts? Honeymooned here and decided t'stay."

Claire leaned forward a little, dipping at the waist to look at the man and woman more directly. "We're lookin' for any that might not be on the map. Old farmstead things and the like?" The redhead tipped a bit closer to the truck's dash to see the other woman better. Her nostrils flared, but there was no change in her expression - it was still friendly.

"Ah! Come ta t'ink of it, I seen some stones off our 'property line." She looked at her husband, pressing her lips and raising her brows.

"Hey, that sounds just what we're looking for. Mind if we see?" Jesse asked.

"If it's not too much trouble," Ben added, smiling some. The driver made a dismissive gesture.

"Yeah, sure. No problem. We're just up the road a bit, g'head 'n follow behind."

Claire nodded, smiling and patting their door in thanks before stepping back so they could lead the way. Ben moved around to the driver's side, tugging the keys out of his pocket.

"All of Iowa, and we get a couple of British people."

"And they're probably wondering why an Aussie is interested in Iowa history," Jesse said with a grin before he crawled into the backseat. The engine roared to life again, and in no time they were following the pick-up in front of them down a side road, the sound of tires against gravel loud in the silence.

"Is it just me, or do they feel _off_?" Claire mentioned, tearing her eyes from the road to look across at Ben, then back at Jesse.

Jesse looked between them, giving a shrug. "Seemed alright to me?"

Ben rolled his lips quietly, frowning as he drove. There had been a strange, unspoken tension between the couple when they'd shared glances. It was as if they knew something.

"Might be, now that you mention it."

Claire sighed lightly, watching the brake lights in front of them. She nudged Ben's elbow with her hand, which then held out in a fist, the unspoken signal for another round of Rock Paper Scissors.

"Is this for checking things out or for keeping on them?" he asked, one brow arched as he smirked.

"Winner's choice."

"Yeah, I've heard _that_ before," he grumbled good-naturedly, then counted out three shakes and threw scissors. Claire threw paper, smirking at herself.

"They'd probably be better if you two played couple to their couple," he said with a nod. "I'll stick behind."

Jesse frowned slightly. "Just be careful. We can afford to be cautious on this one."

"I'm always careful," Ben quipped, turning the wheel with the curve of the road. 

* * *

><p>"Can't thank you enough for this," Jesse said, taking a last photo of the wore down headstones before pocketing his phone. "It's going to be great getting the area all mapped out."<p>

"Ah, s'no trouble," Gail, the redhead, answered, twisting a piece of winter wheat between her bare fingertips. She looked across the scattered stones toward the two strangers, tracking the blond woman especially.

Claire tucked a gloved hand under her hair in her hood, scratching at the back of her neck. The winter air was drying her skin, and hotel soup didn't help either. Though, she couldn't remember being so sensitive to it before. Maybe it was that making her impatient to get inside somewhere, or the fact that they've scoured this poor excuse for a cemetery and there were no signs of the kumiho. And that was narrowing down their list to something a lot more unpleasant.

"I think we got everything we need." She said it more to Jesse than anyone, but she didn't mind if the two Brits heard.

He nodded but glanced at the couple. "Must be nice, living way out here. But I was a bit concerned coming out when we heard about that attack that happened."

The man, Jay, gave him a thin-lipped smile, his eyes sad. "It was a horrible thing," he agreed. "Been a long time since there's been an animal attack out here."

The four of them began their slow trek back up the property line, Jay's hand sliding into his wife's midway up the hill and lacing their fingers together.

"So it _was_ an animal attack?" Claire asked quietly with a quirked brow, making herself try to seem relieved. "We heard the police were involved. Isn't there a kid missing?"

Jay gave a nod. "They're still out there searchin' for him." Gail's lips thinned as she gave a quiet nod as well. Between them, her hand squeezed his.

Claire shook her head with a wince. "Man, I didn't think anything in Iowa could take off with a grown man."

"They dunno if he was with 'em or not, from what I know," Jay said. "Kids are crazy to each other; it's possible they were pullin' some prank or something and left him out there to get lost."

"Not the end you'd usually expect," Jesse said with a grimace. "So you've never had a problem out here? Never seen something... I dunno, out of the ordinary?"

"'sides th'cassional redneck, nah." Gail shook her head with an apologetic kind of half-smile. They reached the old brick farmhouse the couple owned; the woman paused half-way up the steps to face their impromptu guests. "Would'ja be wantin' somethin' ta drink? Have a pint'er some tea?"

The phone in Jesse's pocket gave a little beep. _There's a cellar. It's got a lock on it._ He scowled, texting back, _need time?_

A second passed before his phone beeped again: _Ten minutes would be good._

"Uh, wait," Jesse said, stopping short. "Do you... do you know anything about this oak?" He studied the large tree thoughtfully. "It looks like it's been here awhile."

Claire looked at at Jesse like he'd just sputtered on in Japanese, but it faded quickly when she saw their two hosts were giving him the same expression. Okay - so there was a reason for it, even if she didn't know what it was. She'd keep it going, and pointed at the lowest branch, recalling something from her Girl Scout days.

"Yeah, see the way that branch is twisted?" It wasn't twisted. "The local tribes used to anchor trees as saplings like this to point to bodies of water."

Jay blinked at them, his face pulled in a frown. "I'd have to check a map, but the real estate agent didn't say anything particular about it. It's just another tree."

Back at the house, Ben pocketed his phone again and worked his pick through the padlock quickly and efficiently. It clicked open within minutes, and once he had his flashlight flipped on, he descended the stone steps leading downward.

It was uncomfortably cold, even moreso than outside, but it wasn't anything uncommon for an old wine cellar. What _was_ uncommon was when his flashlight beam came across what looked like a small jail cell or a cage, with long chains anchored against the wall. His brows arched.

"Kinky," he muttered aloud, taking a few steps closer to investigate. The lock on the door had been busted, and not too far away there was an arc welder and a toolbox. Outside of the strangeness of having a jail cell in the cellar, nothing else appeared to be out of order. Ben rapidly ascended the stairs, sending an all-clear text the moment the door was shut behind him and the lock back in place.

"Do you know how long—?" A beep from his phone cut Jesse off. "Ah, shit. Sorry, y'know, we're running late. Maybe some other time?"

By now, Claire had caught on to what was happening, and was thoroughly relieved that the change in subject had been breached. There was only so much she could do to make the local Black Hawk traditions interesting to a pair of immigrants who looked confused, annoyed, and cold. She gave them a smile, pushing her hands in her coat pockets. "Thanks for the offer, though. We really appreciate the look-around."

"Sure, sure, no problem," Jay replied, giving the two of them a bemused smile. "The least we can offer you is something warm t'drink before you head back. It's a long drive back into town."

"No, it's fine," Jesse said, flashing him a grin. "Still got a full thermos of coffee. Raincheck, maybe, though. Check out the trees around the property."

Gail gave both of them a friendly, but clear 'weirdo' look before letting it go. She wrapped an arm around Jay's back and flicked a small wave goodbye as the two others headed around to their car, where Ben was already waiting for them.

Jesse leaned in close to Claire as they walked. "You know how sexy it is when you save my ass?" A puff of steam clouded by Claire's rosy nose in result. She turned a lopsided half-smile up at him.

"I wouldn't call that 'saving your ass' more than covering for it. But I'll keep that in mind."

Jesse's grin widened before he turned to Ben. "So what'd you find?"

"Tell you about it in the car," Ben said, his voice pitched low. "Let's get outta here." 

* * *

><p>*<p>

Though the heater had been working and on full blast for at least five minutes, Claire still felt cold. There was a definite sinking feeling in her stomach, after hearing what Ben found in the couple's basement. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure it had everything to do with the case they were working, either.

She stared out the windshield, still attentive to the conversation, but unaware that her hands were holding onto her gloves a lot harder than necessary. Ben found her hand and gently loosened her grip, casting a sideways look of concern in her direction.

"I didn't see any blood, if that helps at all," he said. "So whatever they're using it for, it's not to butcher."

"That's comforting." It really wasn't, though she knew it should have been.

Jesse leaned forward, his elbows resting on the bench seat. "Could just be a fetish. You'd be surprised how many people have sex dungeons in their basements."

Claire actually snorted. "No I wouldn't." Though she was actually starting to feel a little better.

"We'll do some info mining when we get back to the hotel," Ben added. "And we'll hit up the morgue." 

* * *

><p>Another day, another body. At least that's what it felt like walking into the morgue. Jesse was a little disturbed that he was starting to get used to it all.<p>

Though that didn't stop his stomach from spinning when the examiner pulled back the bag to reveal a pulpy hole where presumably a heart should be.

"Shit. That's gotta be one messy cult," he said.

"That was my point," the mortician added, gesturing with one hand. "I mean, I've seen the typicals with that kind of crap. Usually there's carvings and symbology and whatever else, but this guy? They just pried him open and yanked it out. Same with body two."

He moved to pull open the second drawer. Claire kept one latex-covered hand under her nose while the other gently peeled away a piece of dead skin hanging over the kid's rib cage.

Even for someone who had the gumption to break into someone's chest to take their heart, they needed a tool. Whatever did this didn't use an ax or a machete. It was something blunt, like a sledge hammer... or so she was sure the coroner's report would say. She knew different.

"No word on the one that's missing?"

The mortician shook his head. "None so far." He paused, scratching idly at his chest. "Did you need any help going through findings on the report, or should I let you be for a bit?"

"Think we've got it, but we'll give you a shout if we have any questions, thanks," Jesse said, flashing a quick smile.

The mortician nodded, smiling politely in response as he turned and headed back to the front office to finish what he'd been working on when they'd arrived.

Once he was gone, Claire put her hands back to her sides and took a half-step back from the slide-out table. She took a long, slow breath, knowing the knot in her stomach wasn't just the normal queasiness.

"You know what it is, right?"

Jesse looked at her, his eyes a little round. "Well, not a witch. Probably not a skinwalker either. It's too... animal-like."

Claire nodded, meeting his eyes, though she was clearly unhappy about saying it.

"Werewolf, actually."

"I'm guessing they're like vampires and _not_ as cuddly as their movie counterparts?"

"_Cuddly_ counterparts?" She snorted and smirked while covering the young man with his sheet and putting him back in the drawer. "Which cuddly counterparts are we talking about? The full fledged over-sized wolf that tears people apart or the half-man half-beast that tears people apart?"

"Point," he said with a small smile. "Although some of them just like to walk around shirtless and glare at people."

"So do you."

Jesse glared at her, though a smile tugged at the corners of his pout. "So, werewolf. Random attack you think?"

The way her eyes fell with her expression showed Claire really wasn't convinced either way. She shook her head and started peeling off the blood-smeared gloves. "Could be. I've only seen one, but Kat says they're usually drifters - easier that way. He could just be passing through."

Scowling, Jesse nodded. "Or could be simpler than that. Two kids dead, one kid missing. Maybe he got sick of lying low."

"That could be, too." She tossed the gloves and started for the thick glass door that separated the morgue from the morgue's office. The click of her high heels paused as she half-turned, waiting for him. "It might be good to start with him."

Jesse followed on her heels. "Good thing Ben's already on it." 

* * *

><p>Ben clicked away at the screen, tracing through the backgrounds on the couple who lived near the forest. Their full names were Janus and Gail Thorne; Gail's maiden name was Lane. They had purchased the house in June of 2019. Janus owned a bar in town, and Gail worked at a tattoo parlor. They had green cards, paid their taxes, et cetera. Nothing pointed to anything out of the ordinary, but Gail did have an arrest record: Two accounts of drunk and disorderly, one warning on aggravated assault. She apparently had a temper, which seemed strange to Ben; she appeared to be the more soft spoken one.<p>

"Always was the quiet ones," he muttered aloud. There didn't appear to be any counts of missing persons in direct relation to their move to the area, nor had there been any reports of persons with their hearts ripped out of their chests. Maybe it _was_ just a drifter wolf. He ran the filter for nearby towns, but just as the window popped up with the results, his phone rang.

_I guess I'll keep on ramblin', I'm gonna / Sing my song / Sh-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, I've gotta—_

"You ever hunted a kumiho before?" he asked, skipping over any amount of greeting.

"Can't say that I have. Never even heard of one this side of the Pacific," Dean said, an unusual bemused tint to his voice. Ben frowned, getting up from the chair and walking aimlessly around the little hotel room.

"They're immigrants," he said by way of clarification. "Granted, neither of them is Asian, but I wanted to be sure I was coverin' all the bases."

There was the sound of a body settling heavily in a chair. "I take it folks are missin' organs where you are?"

Ben nodded even though he knew the older man couldn't see him. "Yeah. Just hearts, though. There was some conflict in the lore, hearts in some and livers in others. Wasn't sure if it was a werewolf or not, but I'm checkin' the surrounds right now for any trail."

There was a long pause. "Kumiho ain't your first suspect, right?"

"They had a cage in their cellar," Ben pointed out. "Chains on the wall, too. It was dark, but they couldda been silver. I didn't have time enough to check."

From the pause, Ben was sure Dean had ran a hand over his face. He could almost see it, as if the man was sitting in front of him. "Looks like someone got on the wrong side of a werewolf and thinks they got it under control now." Another pause. "You need someone to come out there and take care of it?"

"Nah, we've got it," Ben said slowly, his brows pinching. "I know it's been a coupla months, but we're still solid. Thanks for the offer, though."

"You done a were before, kid?"

Ben stared down at the carpet, feeling some of the heat drain out of his limbs. Memories of being half-mauled and Izzy coming to his rescue flashed through his mind. He'd been young and stupid, she'd saved his life, but he'd finished the hunt and shot the killing shot. He swallowed and took a breath, then let it out.

"Yeah. Got the sumbitch though, so there's nothin' to worry about."

"I got no doubt you can handle it. Just watch yourself. It's easy to get soft around weres."

"I'm not Sam," Ben said, putting strength he didn't feel behind the words. "I'll get it done."

There was a breath that might have been a laugh. "Kid, you really don't know your uncle that well."

"I know he loved that one in California," Ben countered. "Which is kinda ridiculous, given he knew her all of thirty-six hours, but whatever. And I know he tried to suggest they find another way to save her, but she refused. Maybe I don't know the rest of it, but I know you've compared me to him in your head before."

It was a long time before Dean spoke again, and when he did, the humor was gone from his voice. "My mistake. Guess you know everything."

Ben winced hard, feeling a twist in his chest.

"I didn't—" he tried to argue, but the line went dead. Ben let out an angry sigh, running a hand over his face and glaring down at the phone.

"Dammit, Dean," he grumbled, halfway through clicking open the phone log to redial the number.

Claire swiped the keycard and pushed their room door open with the same hand, the other occupied with the green tea smoothie that she absolutely could not pass up when the only Starbucks in town caught her attention. It satisfied a superficial, but _very_ insistent need that, according to her, nothing else would. The mood at hand, however, was still a little grim.

"What'd you find?" Ben asked, pushing the anger and frustration down as deep as it would go. Meeting his eyes, Claire took her lips away from the smoothie straw, but just rolled them and shook her head.

"It's not human. Well, humanoid," Jesse amended, happy to stroll in and plop down on the bed. "These guys were definitely torn into. And no word on the third yet."

Ben stuck the phone back into his pocket, then ran a hand through his hair. "Dean didn't really have anything helpful to add."

"And the British couple?" Claire added, setting the drink down to peel off her blazer jacket.

"The woman's got a little bit of a record for violent behavior," Ben pointed out. "The guy's got nothin'. He works at a bar downtown and she's a tattoo artist."

"Any similar activity when they moved here? Missing people?" Jesse asked, leaning back. Again, Ben shook his head.

"Nothing in the papers. I was just about to check the surrounds on the filter when grumpy called."

Claire kicked off her only pair of heels, one by one. They could probably use replacing at this point, or maybe she was just noticing how uncomfortable they've become in the last few months. "I don't know," she sighed, finally plopping on the edge of the bed to work off the thigh-high hose. "Whether it's one of them or not, I'd still bet money it's a were."

"You'd know better than I would." Jesse shrugged, though his gaze was pretty intent on what Claire was doing. He addressed the next question to Ben: "Why was he grumpy?"

"It's his default," Ben said sourly, settling in the chair and bringing up the screen again.

"We're low on silver rounds." She said it matter-of-factly, stooped low over now bare feet, though she sent Ben a searching glance before taking her hair down from its clip. "Sounds more than just a 'default setting'," she prodded lightly.

"It's nothing," Ben rebutted, not looking up from the screen. He let out a breath, then shook his head.

"There was a 'bear' attack six years ago, two towns over."

"Was it hunting hearts, too?" Jesse said, cocking his head.

"There aren't bears in Iowa," Ben said, looking up. "Y'might see one every two or three years, _maybe_, but they'd be closer to the Minnesota border. Not out in the middle like this."

"Can you hack the medical records? See if the vic was shredded or not." Claire stood up from the bed and peeled down her skirt, to be replaced shortly with her favorite pair of jeans - which miraculously still fit. Ben looked up, not having heard the first part of the question, and had taken a breath to ask her to repeat herself, but immediately shut down in the brief moment of seeing skin.

"Yeah," he answered finally. "Sure. Just...gimme a sec."

Jesse's smile quirked, looking between them. With a sigh, he loosened his tie. "I'm betting on the third boy, personally."

That had Ben's eyes up again. "What?"

Jesse frowned slightly. "If it's a werewolf. There was a third boy with them and they can't find any trace of him. I'm guessing he wolfed out and went berserk on his friends."

Claire paused to send Jesse a side-glance, her jeans only a little past her knees.

"Definitely makes sense." She looked at Ben and straightened up, dressing, though she purposefully left the zipper open - no sense of being uncomfortable yet. "You check up on the kid? Any rap sheets?"

"Hadn't thought to look. I was too preoccupied with the couple with the freaky sex dungeon." Ben looked over at Jesse, then offered him a small smile. "Good job, man." He brought up a second window to run the kid's name through search filters, then started the tricky work of hacking through the hospital records in the nearby town.

A blush quickly spread across Jesse's face and he ducked his head. He'd only thought he voiced what everyone was thinking, so the praise was unexpected. And felt wonderful. "Thanks."

"We can probably hit up the nearest vet, pick up some silver nitrate," Ben said as he filtered through the firewalls. "It'll be cheaper than rounds, and should do the same trick."

"Uh... I dunno if I want to be close enough to a werewolf to be able to stick it with a needle," Jesse pointed out.

"Won't need to. We can fill up tranqs and shoot 'em from a distance, same as bullets." He grinned. "'Cept they're lighter. It's a trick I picked up from an old chem lab back in school."

Claire pulled down the thin thermal shirt she had replaced the nice blouse with, clearing her throat to suppress a small, involuntary shudder.

"I don't even want to imagine what that would feel like."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "The tranq or the getting your heart torn out?"

She sent him a look that clearly said _'either'_. Then shook her head, and leaned down to put on her socks. "Weres don't usually know what they are. It's not... it's not an easy hunt."

"On the bright side, it won't kill anybody who's not a werewolf," Ben said.

"And we'll still only shoot if we have to. Not like it's a change in protocol." Shrugging off his jacket, Jesse looked between them. "So what's the next step?" 

* * *

><p>Ben pulled into the parking spot in front of the house, turning off the engine and pocketing the keys before he ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. He cast Claire a faint half-smile before getting out and coming around to her side. It had been a while since it was the two of them running an inquiry; most days she ran with Jesse. It made sense, given the fact that they had made a pact about either one of them being with her at all times, and Jesse really was the best choice for defending her. He also needed the work experience, and hated researching, but they had done all the researching they <em>could<em> do for the case. Now it was just about being sure before they proceeded, so they'd had to split up again in order to track everyone involved, and that left Jesse on couple-stalking duty.

"Ready?" Ben asked.

"I just hope they're not cooking Italian food," she breathed on her way out of the car. Garlic, for some reason - she'd been super sensitive to it lately.

A middle-aged woman answered the door in an Ohio State sweatshirt, her graying blond hair back in an alligator clip. Strain was clear under her eyes. "Can I help you?"

Ben gave her a polite but empathetic smile as he pulled out his wallet and opened up the pocket with his ID. "G'afternoon, Mrs. Jennings. Have you got a minute?"

The woman's eyes rested on his ID before moving to his face. "What's the FBI want from me?"

"We've been called in to aid the investigation as to the whereabouts of your son, ma'am." Claire's smile matched Ben's. "I know this is a difficult time, we'd just like to make sure we've covered every possible angle, and we find it best suited to hear the information first hand. Would it be alright to ask you a few questions?" She closed her own false badge and ID to push into her coat pocket.

"My son wouldn't've done that to those boys," she said, her voice hardening. "He wasn't perfect, but he weren't no monster either."

Ben nodded. "We were hopin' you'd set us straight," he said.

"With the circumstances by which he disappeared, our first intention is to make sure he's safe, Mrs. Jennings," Claire added. "That's all."

The woman pursed her lips but her shoulders sagged and she pulled back to let them in. The house was simple and worn. The living room was a faded peach and the sofa she gestured them towards had stuffing coming out the corners. Mrs. Jennings settled herself on an enormous recliner. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Did your son have any enemies, ma'am?" Ben asked, going with the signature opener as he pulled out his pocket notepad. "Someone who might have had a reason to hurt him or his friends?"

She shook her head. "Nothin' like this, no. He got into scuffles occasionally, but it was just the kind of thing boys do. Wouldn't say he had enemies."

"How about any new friends? Anyone not from around here that he may've suddenly come into contact with that caught your eye?" Claire did not have a notepad, but kept a very attentive eye on the woman.

Her hands clenched in her lap. "No. I mean, he did have a run-in with someone who had a bit of a stick up their ass, y'know. Got him banned from a bar over some misunderstanding."

Ben had to be careful not to let the curiosity show too obviously on his face. "Which bar?" he prompted, writing down some unimportant scribbles meant to look like notes.

"Think it was the one north of town. Jerry's or Jimmy's, something like that," she said, her lips pressing tighter. "He never meant anyone no harm."

Claire considered for a moment. "Is it Jay's? Did he tell you what happened? Or were the police involved at all?"

Mrs. Jennings shook her head. "Not so far as I know. Mason's grown, though, so they wouldn't have to bring him by me any more. And he was pretty close-lipped about it; I just knew he was mad he couldn't go back."

So there was the connection. Ben rolled his lips, trying to think what else to ask. "And he's made no attempt to communicate with you since he went missing?"

The woman's bottom lip gave a quiver but she took a breath, her knuckles white in her lap. "No. Not a word."

Ben smiled again, then stood and reached out to offer the woman his hand. "Thank you very much, ma'am. If anyone else gets in contact you, including your son, please be sure and call us straight away."

Once they were back outside, Ben shook his head and gave a bitter laugh. "Seriously, when are we gonna get away from bars with shady history? I don't like this trend at all."

"Would a trend in shady shopping malls be any better?" Claire chuckled faintly, prying the car door open before slipping inside. Ben slid into the driver's seat, though he didn't turn the key in the ignition right away. He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighed, then knocked his forehead against the wheel.

"Hate weres," he breathed out. "And if this is a pack..."

"We don't know that yet," she tried to assure him, but wasn't so confident in her own words. Even so, she squeezed Ben's thigh. "One step at a time."

Ben nodded, moving his hand to rest over his and squeeze it, his eyes dropping down to look at her ring. For the briefest moment, he felt like everything would be okay. She had his back. _They_ had his back. He didn't have to do this alone. Giving her hand one last squeeze, he pulled his hand free and twisted the key, the GTO rumbling to life like a sleepy lion. 

* * *

><p>An entire night of trailing the foreign couple produced nothing out of the ordinary. Jay tended his tavern where nothing extravagant happened besides a horribly one-sided college football game on the TV, while his wife went grocery shopping after hitting up the little town library, then fell asleep across the couch watching one of the Police Academy movies.<p>

The only news came when they woke next morning to a newspaper on the hotel room mat.

"Bad news," Claire said grimly into a sip of coffee (decaf, of course), and dropped the front page down on the table, half-obscuring breakfast.

"Must be Tuesday," Jesse grumbled, rolling over in bed and looking up at her. Ben came over to look, toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth.

_'Hunter found mutilated, second bear attack this month'_ The headline was loud and clear in bold print across the front page, right above a grainy picture of police and paramedics wheeling away a body under a sheet.

"Not them."

Ben scowled around the red handle, going to the bathroom to spit. His voice echoed as he moved from one room to the other. "That doesn't make any sense. Maybe— they only _just_ found him, right? Maybe we missed something."

"I told you it's the kid." Jesse stayed in bed, but his expression was serious. "He's got to be hiding out in the woods or something. We'll need to do some tracking."

Claire set her mug down, then settled tensely in the chair by the table. She nodded through a sigh.

"It's gonna be a mess up there, but we gotta move quick." The trail would go cold fast, and as quick as the victims were dropping, there was bound to be one to survive sooner or later. That's how packs started.

"Who's goin' with who, then?" Ben asked. "I just... I don't know. I don't feel right takin' our eyes off them."

Jesse was about to suggest Claire stick with the couple, but leaving her alone — even when he was fairly certain the couple wasn't involved — left a bad taste in his mouth. "You and Claire stick with them; I'll go after the kid. That way I can escape and find you, if things get hairy." He quirked a smile.

Claire considered for a moment, then mirrored the smile.

"Do a lot of animal tracking in Australia?" she teased lightly, but her tone was clear - she was good with that plan. Ben snickered, then hid it in a cough and rested his hand on Claire's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Unless he's been watching reruns of Crocodile Dundee, you should probably go with him. I can handle it."

Jesse's expression sobered slightly. "I've never handled a werewolf before. If he's set on killing, I don't want to just be there to be in Claire's way."

"Well, thanks to Ben's shells, if he's set on killing, he won't get close enough." Claire squeezed Ben's hand, then leaned forward, nipping Jesse's lips before giving him a quick swat on the ass. "C'mon - it's gonna be colder soon."

Letting out a breath, Jesse pushed himself up and headed for the bathroom. He wasn't exactly comfortable with how they split, but it would have to do. Ben finished getting ready as well, silent as he got a coffee cup and filled it to the brim, his gaze unfocused. He just hoped that he was making the right choice. 

* * *

><p>Didn't matter how quickly Jesse and Claire got to the second attack site - it was still cold, <em>colder<em> even, than it had been when they left the hotel. But, Claire had been right about the mess of the place; the emergency vehicles, police and game-warden tracks mucking up the place, and just as it had been with the first site, a large chunk of missing foliage and snow where a body had been collected. From beneath her faux-fur lined hood, Claire's nose wrinkled, then puffed steam in the air.

The air smelled like snow and dirt and left-over motor oil, but also, she swore, blood.

Jesse's eyes scanned along the snow, out past were the authorities had stomped it all down. "He'd probably be wearing shoes, right? I mean, since they don't grow paws and things."

"So was everyone else around here, soooo..." Claire scanned the ground in front of her feet, taking slow steps toward the edge of the disturbed ground. "Look for the one that wanders ...off."

Her voice trailing, Claire's attention veered to a small scrap of a sapling on the edge, then angled toward the west. The undergrowth was equally disturbed, yet she headed in that direction anyway. "This way."

While it technically got brighter as the sun rose, the clouds were heavy, promising more snow, and everything looked gray as they walked through the woods. Jesse clutched the tranquilizer gun in gloved hands, staying right next to Claire as she led. He didn't know how long they walked, the monotony of the trees and sunlight giving no sense of time, but his toes started to feel numb.

"We might have to turn back; it's going to take just as long to get back to the car," he said, giving his red nose a rub.

"Probably," Claire answered, distractedly looking straight ahead through the trees. "But—we should probably worry about that later. Don't you recognize where we are?" Her voice had fallen to the timbre usually reserved for when they were hiding behind corners, lest something shoot at them.

Looking at him, she pointed a gloved finger toward a pretty crooked, and familiar looking tree. Beyond that was the shady outline of an equally familiar house.

It only took Jesse a moment. "Fuck," he breathed. "The Thornes." He nearly dropped the gun pulling out his cell phone to dial Ben. The phone rang twice, then went straight to voice mail. The surrounding woods was utterly silent, before the crack of a gunshot was heard in the house, briefly lighting one of the windows in the distant house.

In any circumstances, hearing that would've demanded an immediate reaction; this being no different, Claire stiffened reflexively. But the next instant, a horrible chill raced through her veins, as if ice water had replaced her blood. "_Ben's in there..._" Breath choked her words, squeezed out as she started at a run for the house.

Jesse took off after her, heart ricocheting at the words. He yanked his gloves off as he went, cold fingers gripping the gun. "Behind me, Claire!" he snapped as they neared the front door.

The door was unlocked and he burst through, gun up and at the ready. "Ben?"

"Get down, I only nicked him and the power's out!" came Ben's holler from somewhere in the house. "Don't let him get out!"

With her gun also readied, Claire hovered in the front doorway, eyes wide in the darkened house. Her nerves felt electrified, standing on end and practically buzzing with her pulse. Later, she'd swear she could feel the very air changing around them, but in that moment, her breath started when a rumble vibrated in her head.

A truck was turning down the long drive toward the house - the same they'd encountered on the street days before, belonging to the Thornes.

"They're here!" she said, pulling the door closed behind her. "Where'd he go, Ben!"

"I can't—" Ben started, but he was interrupted by a crashing body through the glass bay window in the kitchen. Ben swore loudly.

"Get down!" he shouted.

Jesse grabbed Claire, pulling her down and shielding her with his body. Another gunshot exploded in the space, but this time it came from another direction. There was the sound of bodies knocking together, and one resounding thud.

"Ben?" He pushed to his feet, headed for the kitchen. His heart dropped; Gail was digging ravenously into a body— _not Ben, it's not Ben._ Ben had pushed himself between a cabinet and half under the kitchen table, his hand pressed hard against his side. Even in the dark, it was obvious he was heavily bleeding.

"Jess, get down—" he croaked out. The kitchen door was thrown open, and Jay came in with a rifle pressed against his shoulder.

"Back up!" he barked loudly.

Jesse's eyes flicked from Jay to Ben. There was no question where the shot came from. The fear that had been racing through him hardened, and then burst into flame. He glared at Jay but didn't lift his own gun. He didn't have to.

Jay flew back, through the open dining door and pinned flat against the wall. He gave a scream of surprise, trying to twist his wrist and free his gun, but Jesse didn't let up, walking towards him. He shot Ben. _He. Shot. Ben._

Blinded by that rage, Jesse didn't hear the warning growl that came from the bloody mess on the other side of the kitchen; Gail's features, twisted by an emotionally wrought change into what she _really_ was, squared off in his direction - her yellow eyes flickered before she sprang with a hellish growl.

But it stopped short, and so did her attack. Claire, who had been tending to Ben, appeared as a wall between the werewolf and Jesse.

She stood there, rigid and wild-eyed, fists slick with Ben's blood curled out at her sides. Gail snarled, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth, held at bay by nothing but a _stare_.

"_Stop,_" Ben begged in a wet voice. "Everyone stop."

"Get out of my house!" Jay shouted, still pinned to the wall. "Get _out!_ Gail, run!"

"We're sorry," Ben continued to babble, his voice shaking. "We didn't know. We were tracking the boy, we didn't know—"

"Ben, are you alright? Where did he shoot you?" Jesse called, keeping his eyes on Jay even as he shifted closer to Claire, taking her arm.

She didn't react beyond the subtle loosening of her fists, her eyes not moving from the werewolf. Gail snapped and hissed, but continued to slink back like a beaten animal, before she finally whirled around and leaped through the kitchen window.

Ben gave a wet cough, trying to move and failing, and Jay knocked his head back against the wall, his demeanor doing a complete reverse.

"Let me go. I need to herd her into the cellar."

"You shot Ben," Jesse snapped. "And she fucking _ate_ that kid!"

"She's gonna run straight to town if I don't stop her! Please!" the older man pleaded. "I can stop her!"

"Let'im go, Jess—!" Claire had broken her own trance at some point, and had fallen back to Ben's side with a hand over his bloodied side. Her voice was frayed. "We gotta get him to the doctor."

The anger in Jesse's face finally faltered. He hesitated just a moment before striding forward, grabbing Jay's rifle before releasing him. Jesse hardly noticed as Jay ran out, hurrying over to Ben and Claire.

"I'm sorry," he said, grabbing Ben's hand. Oh god, there was so much blood. There wasn't any question. "Ruth! Ruth, please!"

There was a deadening silence following his call, save for the sounds of Ben's gasping. Then the blond appeared to Jesse's left, her hair shifting as though she'd been running.

"Jess?" she asked breathlessly.

Jesse grabbed her arm, maybe a little too tightly. "Ben's been shot. Please help him." Ben's face had gone far too pale; Jesse reached down to cradle his head. Claire was already there, still with her hand clamped down on the hole in Ben's side.

But her eyes were on Ruth. The nephilim girl stared wide-eyed, looking everywhere at once, then reaching between the mess of hands to press her hand to Ben's forehead. His whole body seized and arched, then he fell flat on the ground, unmoving.

"I need space," she said in a firm voice.

Though his instincts screamed at him not to, there was nothing he could do at this point. Jesse crawled back, grabbing Claire's arm to pull her to him. Her eyes went hard, and she went rigid in Jesse's grip, but she didn't fight it.

Every hackle in Claire's body rose and bristled in the other woman's presence. Call it instinct or rivalry, probably both - it wasn't clear. The animosity, however, was. But Claire said nothing. Ruth's eyes rose to hers, her face trained neutral.

"I only stopped the bleed. I'm not done, and he needs air. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Fast as you can," Jesse said, his eyes fixed on Ben.

Ruth turned her eyes back to Ben, lifting his shirt to expose the wound. The hole was gaping and pulpy, but it wasn't bleeding. One hand pressed against the bullet hole, white against red, while the other settled against his forehead. The room seemed to brighten, light pooling out from where her hands touched him.

Claire barely breathed, finally having switched her gaze to Ben's face when the light faded. He breathed in, sudden and deep, then coughed hard. Ruth pulled her hand away, her lips curved up in a faint smile.

"Hey, Mister Hero," she said, her voice light and playful. "How many times do I have to fix you this year?"

Jesse jerked to go to him, but stopped, looking at Ruth. "Is it alright now?"

"I'm right here, jerk," Ben said in a sluggish voice. Ruth looked to Jesse, her mask up again.

Crawling forward, Jesse cupped his face, swallowing hard but smiling. "Ruth's right. You need to stop getting beat up."

A clear weight had lifted from Claire's gaze, softened when Ben started talking; at least enough so she could let a long breath out through flaring nostrils. She slacked back against the kitchen wall, watching the two of them for a moment more - if only to make sure it was real. When her eyes flicked to Ruth, they were still very, very wary, edged by something she couldn't control. But she was trying, if only for the sake that she'd just likely saved Ben's life. Ben pushed up on his arms, giving a weak wince. Ruth frowned.

"Is there pain?"

Ben shook his head, but his expression betrayed him. Ruth's frown deepened.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her before she had a chance to speak. "I'm sore is all. Thank you, Ruth. You saved the day again."

"We need to go," Claire finally broke her silence, albeit quietly. Her eyes lingered on Ruth before switching to the mangled body sharing the kitchen floor. "We have things to take care of."

Jesse's smile fell. He got to his feel, going for his gun. "She's right; we do."

Ben finally got to his feet, if only to grab Jesse's arm. "Don't," he said quickly. "We don't know the facts. He was defending his home."

"I don't care." Jesse's voice was hard. "There's a body on the floor, and that could have been you. So he better have more to say than he was defending his fucking home."

"What if he was defending his _wife_," Claire injected quickly, obviously still very much on edge. "We don't have time to split priorities - someone had to've heard those shots."

"His wife's a fucking _monster_ who's been on a killing spree!" Jesse looked between them, expression pinched. "Isn't that what we're for? To stop people from dying?"

"Jess, they have a cage," Ben said seriously. He could hear Dean's voice in his head, but he ignored it. Deep down, it just didn't feel right. "If she was just a regular monster, why would they have a cage? Dean had never heard of a cage when I asked him. Please just— _please_ can we pull back a second and regroup?"

Jesse stared at him a few seconds, then his jaw clenched. "I'm not letting them get away." Jerking his hand away, he ran out the kitchen door, tranquilizer gun in hand.

He flicked off the safety, eyes searching as he paced around the house. Turned out the caution was unneeded; he found Jay openly leaning on the cellar doors, panting hard. Jesse aimed the gun. Not that he was about to use it on Jay; it just had more intimidation factor.

"Where is she?"

Jay swallowed hard, but his expression was steely, fists clenched at his sides.

"I don't know who or what you are, but you stay the hell away from us," he snarled.

"Your wife there has been on a killing rampage," Jesse said with a grimace. "You really think I'm going to shrug and walk away?"

"She wasn't on a rampage!" he shouted. "It wasn't her fault! She can't control it! Mason broke three of my ribs assaulting me after work because I kicked him out of the bar. I barely got her away before she phased!" He was visibly shaking. "She'd been in lock down for four days! It was my fault! I didn't realize the lock had worn down!"

Jesse scowled, the gun easing down slightly. "Alright, alright, calm down. What happened with Mason? He's been missing a few days, so it's not like this was recent."

Jay gave a hysterical laugh. "I was late. I had tracked her, but she'd already gotten the other boys. She'd bitten him, but he wasn't dead. I thought he was. I was gonna come back to clear up the mess, but he was gone."

"And the hunter they found today?"

"They?" He shook his head hard. "We'd been tracking him all day. She hasn't left my side."

Jesse's jaw worked. "That was probably Mason then. And soon as she found him, she tore him up, too."

"What else should we have done?" the older man shouted. "He was dangerous! He would have destroyed everything!"

"_She's_ dangerous! Why should I let her live when you didn't even give Mason a chance?"

"You don't—!"

There was a sudden ring from his pocket that immediately cut him off. He winced, then reached for the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Are you okay?" He said into the phone, his voice strained. There was silence, then his expression softened. "Baby, no, it's all right now. Please, don't—" There was an audible sob. "Listen to me. Don't do this again. We'll move. We can handle this. You—" His hand reached into his pocket, but he stopped. "I'm coming. Just sit there, okay? I'll be right down."

Weights seemed to settle in Jesse's stomach. He pursed his lips as Jay hung up. "She's human again." It wasn't a question. "Can you really handle this? Because it didn't work out this time."

"It was a mistake," he bit out. "It was _my_ mistake. If you're gonna kill anyone, kill me."

"Don't tempt me," Jesse snapped. "You shot my partner."

"He was gonna shoot my wife!" Jay shouted, his voice breaking.

"She was gonna eat him!"

"Enough!" Ben yelled. He stood a few feet back, his expression pinched. Ruth and Claire were at his side. "Jesus _Christ_, I'm _here_ and I'm _fine_, and it was an _accident!_"

"How the fuck was shooting you an accident?" Jesse glared at Ben, furious, before turning back to Jay. "Look, I know you want to save her. But if you can't keep her safe, if you can't stop her killing people, then you're not doing her any favors."

Jay had been too busy staring at Ben to respond, and it took him a moment before he finally spoke.

"You have no idea what we've been through," he said in a low voice. "She'd never had a problem, not since our son was kidnapped, and before that—" he moved his eyes back to Jesse, jaw clenched. "Just leave. This isn't your problem."

"Your son?" The fire had gone from Jesse's voice.

"She can't have kids," he said harshly. "He was adopted. That doesn't mean he wasn't ours, and that fuckin' bastard left him dead in a ditch. That was the first time she'd ever killed anyone."

Jesse lowered the gun completely, taking a long breath. He looked at Ben and Claire, then at the ground. "Okay. I...I guess that's all I needed to know."

Jay stared them down, unaffected by their reaction. He refused to move, protecting the door. Ben slid his hand into Claire's. She squeezed it tightly.

"You _have_ to move on," Claire said quietly. Her tone was low, but intense, and her gaze switched to Jesse. It was imploring. "Us too."

He just nodded, backing away, settling at Ruth's side. Ruth wordlessly slid her hand down to his and gave it a light squeeze. Jay pulled his keys out of his pocket, eyes still on them as he worked the door open, then slid through the crack. There was the sound of what could only be a barricade dropping down on the other side of the door once it closed, then silence. Ben's hand shifted free to circle Claire's waist instead, then he stopped.

"Uh, where's the GTO?" 

* * *

><p>After telling Ruth to head home and that he would see her soon, Jesse went to grab the GTO, driving it back so they wouldn't have to make the long hike. The ride was silent, and even when they got to the hotel, it was an unspoken given that Claire got the shower first. Jesse stripped down to his undershirt before moving around the room, packing up what he could. They likely wouldn't stick around long. As he worked, he kept glancing at Ben, who was disassembling the information web on the wall near the computer. He worked shirtless, and with a very deliberate slowness that was unlike him. The continued silence, however, was not unexpected. That didn't mean it was killing Jesse any less.<p>

He stared at Ben as he turned to grab his bag—and slammed his shin into the bed corner. He hissed in a breath, hobbling back. When he looked in Ben's direction again, the other man was looking at him, concern flickering in his eyes for the briefest moment.

"You okay?"

"Fine," he said with a sigh. Ben's jaw clenched and unclenched, but he turned back to what he'd been doing, his head turning just for a moment on the bathroom door.

Jesse's heart twinged. He put down his shirts. "Are you mad at me?" he asked quietly.

"I'm a lot of things at you," Ben replied in a low voice, dropping the last of the thumbtacks into the empty pill bottle and twisting it shut.

He'd really been hoping for a "no." Jesse shifted closer, but only a little. "I'm sorry. I— Except I'm not, really. I had every reason to question him. I didn't hurt anyone."

"You would have," Ben retorted.

"Not unless it was required," Jesse said firmly. "Only if they were dangerous."

"Don't give me that bullshit, I was looking right at you," Ben growled out. "If he hadn't had a moment of sharing and caring, you would have shot him in the head, then went down and finished the job. You didn't ask for the details; you saw red, you reacted."

"Yeah, because you can read my mind, right?" Jesse scoffed. "Why bother trusting that I'll know when I have enough information to make that call? Because only _you_ can decide that, right?"

Ben's expression twisted, his hands clenching at his sides. "I'm not having this argument with you."

Jesse's breath hitched hard in his chest. He stormed towards Ben, colliding with him as he threw his arms around him and held on so tight it hurt. Ben tensed, and for the briefest moment it was almost as though Jesse could feel the bullet in him, grinding against bone. "Fuck you," he said through clenched teeth, closing his eyes. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you."

Ben moved his arms to settle around his shoulders, one hand fisting in his hair, but stayed silent for a long time. He hadn't even made an attempt to protect himself from any potential assault.

"Text next time, okay?" he said quietly against Jesse's hairline. "I wouldda got him if my phone hadn't gone off."

"I thought I watched you die," Jesse said roughly. "You stopped moving. And it would have been my fault."

Ben's hand flattened against his head, then settled against his neck. "You're gonna have to do that someday," he said quietly. "I'm not immortal."

The words ran through his body like ice. "Neither am I. But that doesn't mean you have to watch me bleed out. I can't do that again, Ben. I _can't_."

Ben let out a breath, shifting his arms just enough to hug him properly. "Jess," he very nearly whispered. "This isn't a life you can just walk away from, when you're human. It's a choice to get into it, yeah. Or maybe not, I don't know. I'm not Socrates. The point is, one way or another, it always pulls you back in and keeps you until you're done. Capital D. You know it just as much as I do; you could've left us a hundred times. Hell, you didn't even have to come back after we fixed you up the once."

"This life isn't the reason I came back," he said firmly. "This is really what we're going to bring a kid to? Is she going to have to watch us all die, too?"

It was two different and important things to address, and unfortunately Ben couldn't find a way to really answer either of them. He kissed Jesse's temple, then pulled back just enough to find his gaze.

"Everyone dies eventually, Jess," he said quietly. "What matters is how much it meant, in the end."

Though Jesse's eyes were watery, his jaw was firm. "You're going to lead a long fucking life, if I've got anything to do with it," he said, kissing Ben hard. Ben tensed again, just a little, but it didn't take much to wear him down. He was tired, and if Jesse's promise had any weight, he was going to be tired for a very long time.


	4. Deleted Scene: Laugh, I Nearly Died

They were all tired. And once again, with his close call, Ben found himself being crowded on either side of the bed by Claire and Jesse. It was a wonder he was able to get away from them at all, but Claire slept like a rock for the first time in days, and Jesse's only real concern was that he'd be right back. Ben didn't want to be gone long, but there were a few things he wanted to handle before his brain would allow him to fall asleep.

It was cold outside, too cold for pajamas and a jacket, so that only really left crawling into the GTO as a buffer from the wind. He stared down at his cellphone for a long time, turning it over and over in his hand, before he finally drew up the courage to open up the contact list and find Dean's number. It was late, he might not even answer, but Ben didn't mind if he didn't. He'd leave a message with the things he wanted to say. It might even be easier. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the _Talk_button and brought the phone up to his ear.

Dean picked up in the middle of the fifth ring, his voice rough. "Kid, you better be on fire."

He limped heavily back to his bed, having just dragged himself across the room. The phone for Ben lived in his leather jacket, so it would always be close at hand. During the day. Ben let out a noise on the other end of the phone that sounded dangerously close to a sob, but when he spoke his voice was only a little thick.

"_I wasn't actually, ah, expecting you to answer at all._"

"That'd mean _I_was on fire," Dean said, irritation clear in his voice. He ran a hand over his face to try to wake himself up before giving into the inevitable and turning on the bedside lamp. "You just callin' to shoot the shit?"

There was a short stretch of silence before the younger man answered. "_I would've died today. Shot point blank in the liver, probably twenty minutes away from a town that's forty still from the nearest hospital._"

Dean's eyes sharpened on the middle distance, his whole body going still. He could hear the quiet creaks of the settling house around him, the far-off buzz of the too-old refrigerator grating in his ears. Words. He should say words. "What happened?"

Ben stared ahead at the building in front of him, the window slowly fogging up with his breath as it visibly puffed out between his lips. His eyes remained unfocused, not really seeing anything anyway. Hearing the change in Dean's voice was enough to ease the knot in his stomach, but not by much.

"Tracked a were. Turned out there were two. One of them was married," he said, each fact stilted from the next. He made another noise, this one sounding like it could have been a laugh if it had tried a little harder. "He didn't want me to shoot his wife, and I'd broken into his house tracking the first."

He had to hold back hard on just asking "What happened?" again. It didn't matter that he was talking to Ben and so he was clearly fine. Dean needed to know how Ben got away; he needed to hear that he survived. "All right," he said, forcing patience into his voice.

Another stretch of silence settled. Ben brought a hand up to swipe the tears out from beneath his eyes, then took a slow breath through his mouth. If he breathed through his nose, no doubt there would be a sniff. The kind that rolled, which was almost as undignified as the small ones kids made when they were getting ready for a good weep. He didn't want to weep.

"I'm sorry, about what I said the other day," he said quietly. "It was wrong of me to say it. I got defensive. I just didn't want the last words you heard from me to be those."

"_Don't get sappy on me, kid,_" Dean said, though his voice was gentle. "_You were defending your hunt, and I got no right to question your skills. But you got it done and you lived through it. Ain't much more we can ask._"

Ben shook his head even though his father couldn't see him. He wouldn't argue, couldn't bring himself to do it, but the fact remained that he'd cut the man when he'd never meant to do it. Mostly, he didn't argue because he knew how Dean would react if he tried. _No chick-flick moments._

"Okay," he said in the same thick tone. He took another breath. "I need to ask you something. And you can say no, I'll understand it if you do, but... I can't ask Mom."

Dean glanced at the clock. That was an awfully foreboding statement for 3am. "Shoot, kid."

"_Claire's eventually not gonna be able to keep hunting, when she's too far along. Hell, if Jesse had his wish, she wouldn't be hunting right now, but..._" He sighed, pausing for a moment before continuing. "_She needs to be somewhere safe. I thought maybe about askin' her friend Kat, but I'd feel better if it was you and Sam._"

Never one for complicated emotions, Dean could only blink for a few moments. "I... Sure, kid. I mean, I gotta ask Sammy, but he's always been one step away from lactating anyway, so shouldn't be a problem." He paused again. "It's gonna be a fuck baby-proofing this place, though."

This time, Ben did laugh. It was small and short, but it was still genuine. "Don't worry. I'm sure Claire will be more than happy to do it, given she won't be able to do much else. She might even cook for you."

"Bonus," Dean said, his face crinkling in a smile. "When you aimin' at coming? And you bringing the... your... everyone?"

"You can say 'the other man,'" Ben said, a tint of humor in the words. He licked his lips, rolling them in thought. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't-... I don't know how he'd feel about it. Haven't really presented the idea to them yet." Deep down, he wondered if it had been a good idea asking at all. He didn't like having to ask for help, and he was pretty sure Jesse would rather it just be the three of them. Jesse also wanted them to both stop hunting; it didn't matter how many times he tried to explain that he couldn't, it was still expected. Ben sighed. "Thought gettin' the go-ahead from you would be the better plan of attack. That way all the work's done and it's in their court."

The smile slipped from Dean's face. He probably should have known that Ben hadn't got the okay from Ben's...the fuck was he supposed to call them? Partners? He cleared his throat. "Well don't try'n force them to live with old has-beens in a dusty-ass house. Just, we're here if you need us."

Ben let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said quietly. "It— thank you, Dad."

The tone of his voice relaxed Dean some. "_Yeah. Well you can thank me by letting an old man get his sleep._"

That brought a smile to Ben's face. For the briefest moment he thought about telling him more, about his and Claire's vows, about the issues with Jesse's followers, but he held back. He'd find out about everything once they were there, if he was observant enough. As for the Nephilim... maybe it would be better if nobody knew about that. It wasn't as though Jesse was planning to parade them around the salvage yard. He just hoped they stayed wherever he was keeping them and wouldn't come panicking at their doorstep if he didn't show up for a few weeks.

"Goodnight."

The same words were on Dean's lips before he paused. "Ben. I just wanted... The thing about dying is, don't matter if you go up or down, it's no picnic. So, y'know. Don't."

Ben swallowed. "Can't promise anything," he said honestly, feeling a twist in his stomach. "Everybody's gotta go sometime. I'll just... I'll be careful."

With an attempt at a smile, Dean said, "Well, you're smarter than your old man, so you should last a while." There was a longer pause as he tried to figure how to shape the words. He couldn't. Instead he said, "Good night, Ben."

Ben felt his eyes mist up again, and was just about to say something in response, but the line clicked off. It was probably the closest thing he'd ever heard to "I'm proud of you" from the other man since he was a kid, and even then. There had been other words too, hidden in that last pause. Words he knew were much harder to say, especially after so much regret. He got it, though.

Dropping the phone into his pocket, he pushed out of the car and trudged back to the hotel room.


	5. Episode 3: Several Ways to Die Trying

They stopped only a couple towns over, too frazzled to go much further. Ben had only had time for a quick shower, some dried blood still creased on his skin, so he went right to the bathroom when they got their new room. He probably wouldn't be long, so Jesse didn't waste time sitting next to Claire on the bed.

He looked her in the eye. "Something happened, didn't it? When the werewolf was about to attack."

She just looked at him for a moment, locked somewhere between confused and cautious. Her lips thinned when her quick shrug broke the eye-contact — Claire looked down at her lap for no other reason than instinct told her to.

"I just—I have no idea."

"So you didn't have a charm or...or something?"

Claire shook her head. "I just _acted_." Her hand slipped from her lap and slid onto his, squeezing. His skin was warm, and felt like home. "I couldn't let anything happen to you."

He brought her hand up, kissing the back of it. "I would have been fine, but thank you. Next time, though, don't step in front of a raging werewolf unless you know you can stop it." His eyes flicked down to her stomach, just briefly.

She was quiet, watching the path his eyes took, connecting them to the expressions on his face.

"I knew I could." Her head dipped to meet his eyes better, her brows lifted. "I _did_."

"How did you know?" he asked quietly.

Claire sighed. She couldn't pick out a specific reason why the situation still made her a little uneasy, but only in a superficial way; like the ghost of a thought that she'd left the gas on somewhere.

"It's a gut thing, Jess. Always is." She gave his hand a squeeze and stood up to grab the bottle of water sitting on the nearby table. Leaning against it, her fingers toyed with the cap. "Sometimes it's stronger than other times."

Jesse pursed his lips, looking between her eyes. "Are we going to tell Ben?"

Claire's brows pinched together above her nose. "Tell him what?"

"About your new ability to stare down werewolves and make them run off." Jesse's eyes flicked down again. Claire reacted, again on instinct, by sliding one hand over the very subtle swell.

"You're skirting something," she said after a thick pause. "What is it."

Jesse bit his lip. "Unless you've been hiding superpowers this whole time, I...I think it's the kid. She's...making you powerful or something."

The moment it left his lips, the word shot straight through to Claire's core, dropping her jaw with a phantom breath, and her eyes suddenly swam. She felt her heart stop for a fraction of a second that seemed to last forever, thanks to the scraps of memories that flooded them. She didn't even hear the rest of the sentence.

"_She_—?"

_Oh_. The idea had been fact in his head for so long. He'd avoided saying anything, hoping to put things off, or at least make things a bit more normal. He swallowed hard, his eyes meeting hers hesitantly. "Sorry... I didn't mean to tell you that way."

"How do you know?" Her voice barely worked.

He licked his lips. "Jack said it was a girl. He might've been lying, but I don't think so."

Claire felt her knees turn to jello, and quickly slunk back onto the bed beside him, never loosing the stunned expression. After a long moment, she finally tried to wipe it from her face with one palm, which turned to catch moisture on her lashes before falling to her lap. Deep down, she didn't think the faerie had been lying either. About anything. That was a terrifying thought she realized she'd been avoiding as well.

"I don't think he was, either," she uttered weakly, then swallowed hard. "Jess, remember that dream I had...?"

The sound of the shower going off killed the white noise that had been filling the air around them. Jesse's head jerked around before he looked at Claire again, shaking his head.

"Dream? When?"

"At Izzy's... When I came out of it, I tackled you?"

The blood drained from his face. "The one where I..." He couldn't find the words for it. She nodded faintly, lacing her fingers with his as a matter of needed comfort.

"I never told you, but— in that world..." Her words were cut off by a swallow, dropping volume with every syllable. "I had a daughter."

The door to the bathroom opened an closed, and Ben appeared, towel slung around his hips, hair still hanging in wet threads around his ears.

"Water's still hot if either of you want a go."

Jesse hardly registered him, his stark eyes focused on Claire. "W-was she mine?" The words came out barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes promptly, clenching them tight against the assault of images. Ben's voice in the background was a welcome change in the subject.

She shook her head and quickly swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, whispering, "I don't know."

Ben looked between the two of them with wide eyes, not sure whether to come closer or hang back.

"What's..." he said slowly. "What'd I miss?"

Jesse swallowed hard, looking over at Ben then at the floor. He hadn't told him either. "I...I told Claire she's having a girl. I found out from Jack."

Ben stared. He'd remembered Jesse's slip the night before, but he'd just tacked it on to being overwhelmed. His eyes moved to Claire, brow starting to furrow.

"But then... why are you asking if it was yours?" he asked Jesse, eyes still on Claire. She found them with hers, gnawing on her lip as she took in a deep breath.

"Amitiel's dream... I wanted to tell you."

"What was she like?" The words were out of him before Jesse could even think of stopping them. They'd had this child in the abstract for months now, and Claire... Well it wasn't the future she saw; it couldn't be. But the need to know weighed on him.

Ben continued to stare, stricken dumb in the wake of the news.

Despite how hard she was fighting them, her tears finally fell of their own volition. She was having trouble getting words past her breath. "I don't—I can't..." Forcing a deep breath, she tried to start over. "It was just a dream — he was manipulating me. It has nothing to do with now."

Ben was at her side in an instant, the towel nearly falling off of him in his haste to get to her. He grabbed her hands and held them, kissing them.

"It's okay, baby, you're right," he told her without a shadow of a doubt in his voice. "It was a coincidence. He got inside your head and found all the things that would upset you the most, that's all."

Jesse's stomach twisted as he lay his hand on her knee. "Belial's gone for good now; there's no way that's reality. I'm sorry. I just... was thinking out loud."

Still dropping trails of moisture down her cheeks, but keeping as much of a stiff upper lip as possible, Claire squeezed Ben's hands, not letting go, and leaned her cheek on Jesse's shoulder. There, she nodded, sniffing.

"It's okay... I brought it up." She pulled in a shaken breath. Jesse's reminder that the demon who was responsible for turning him to such horrible acts was truly gone helped. Probably more than he knew. Whether it was hormones, psychosomatic, or the same thing that scared off a fully enraged werewolf, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders. "We got stranger things to deal with."

"Not right now we don't," Ben said, running his thumbs over her hands again. "We need a day off. It was a close call. We should head south, get back into the warmth again. Maybe visit Luke or something, yeah?"

Jesse sagged slightly. Being around Luke might be relaxing for them, but he would always be on edge around a strange hunter. "Warmth would be better."

Claire didn't look so enthusiastic either, but Ben was right. They needed a little time, even if the 'little time' between when they were active seemed to keep getting bigger. It was inevitable, after all.

"Somewhere warm, then — but not Vegas," she said, rolling her lips. She was almost positive Kat had kept her pregnancy quiet, and though she liked Lucas, the risk of him knowing made her uncomfortable on a strangely deep level.

Jesse's lip twitched with a smile, glad that was one thing they didn't have to tackle. "Well, you've been all over this country. You know the good spots."

Ben rolled his lips, watching her face and holding back on suggestions. He wanted Claire happy; wherever they went didn't matter, so long as he was with the two of them.

She pulled in a deep, cleansing breath, then let it out through pursed lips. Admittedly, filtering different destinations was the distraction she needed to let a few things go. At least, for now — and that's when it came to her.

"Anybody like Cajun food?"

Ben's lips turned up in a smile. "Leave it to you that we get led somewhere by your food cravings," he teased gently, leaning in to kiss her cheek, which fluffed with her smile.

"There's that, and a little thing I like to call Mardi Gras."

"Fuck yeah," Jesse said, beaming.

Ben laughed heartily, running a hand backwards through his hair twice before bringing it over his face.

"Let's enjoy the rest of the day at least, maybe head out in the morning, yeah? No rush." 

* * *

><p>"I really love this city," Claire said while looking down the front walk of the seventeenth century Garden District bed and breakfast. Regardless of how her life turned out, and how seedy and macabre modern society had made New Orleans, she'd always been attracted to the old places in the country. She'd always found museums and historical documentaries fascinating on a hobbyist level, appreciating the weathered personality of locations more than just what came her way in hunts. Strangely enough, that attachment seemed to be getting stronger, like her new appreciation for spicy food and hatred for the smell of suede. "You can practically <em>smell<em> the history."

"History smells like urine and rotting fish?" Jesse teased giving her side a small pinch. Ben gave a snicker, then knocked his elbow into him.

"Brine, not urine. I'd figure you'd know the difference better than anybody out there."

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "And why would I know that?"

"Mister Surfer?" Ben shot back.

"Eh, it all smells the same," Claire interrupted them both with a smirk, nudging them on through the gate. "C'mon. I figure how hard Hollywood's trashed this place, none of the real monsters would stand hangin' around."

"That's my girl; always the silver lining." Jesse opened the door, pushing it wide open for Claire, except it jerked short.

"Hey, watch it!"

"Sorry—" Ben said quickly, then stopped short, his eyes going comically wide. There was a filming crew lingering in the lobby, and a smart-dressed brunette woman speaking just off camera to the front desk clerk. He grinned so wide his face seemed to hurt.

"Oh my god, it's Tara Summerby."

Claire gave him a dubious look, then angled it up at Jesse, who raised both eyebrows at her before turning to Ben. "Someone you knew in high school?"

Ben stared at them both, especially at Claire, then flailed. "Oh, c'mon! Tara Summerby. She did that documentary series on Marie Laveau and the hoodoo subculture? She's like— an expert on her! And the graveyard segment with the tombs in _Cities of the Dead_. She's one of the best documentarians in the country!"

Now Claire really looked unimpressed, not in any small part because of the sharp trill of interest in Ben's voice. Her eyes slid toward the woman, decked out for the camera crew. Her nose wrinkled, but she said nothing for the time being.

Jesse just stared. "You watch documentaries? Since when?"

Ben's cheeks flared. "For research!"

Claire just readjusted the bag on her shoulder, muttering, "Documentaries aren't worth their Wikipedia sources. Anyone who can read a high school research paper can do it on camera."

Ben seemed to visibly deflate at the comment, then straightened his shoulders quickly. "She was a curator at Historic New Orleans Collection for six years. Master's Degree in Anthropology. She's legit." He moved his bag on his hip, opening it and rapidly shuffling through it.

While Claire snorted in derision, that got a laugh from Jesse. "You researched the host of a documentary? Who..." His eyes flitted to Tara. "Shit, you fancied her, didn't you?"

"What? No!" Ben said swiftly. "No, she's just— she's really awe-inspiring. Most of my hoodoo stuff I started out learning from her docus."

"_Awe-inspiring_." The eye-roll could practically be heard in Claire's voice. "Glad eight years of reading books safe in a cushy dorm or apartment makes her legit." With that, Claire headed for the front desk, completely uncaring of her path right through the cameras. A director's assistant quickly stepped into her path to stop her, speaking quietly. Ben had found the notebook he faked writing information in when they went out pretending to be cops, but he'd deflated even further at Claire's criticism. Jesse gave his shoulder a pat, looking bemused after Claire.

"Is it me or is she saying weird shit a lot lately?"

Meanwhile in front of the cameras and sound techs and the documentarian herself, Claire pushed a hand pointedly into the production assistant's shoulder in the clear _back-the-fuck-off_ fashion, quoting some ordinance about public space. The camera man turned to look in her direction with a frown, and then Tara's voice cut through the air.

"Cut!" She stood, sending a narrow-eyed look in Claire's direction before speaking to the camera guy. "We'll pick up to the spot before the last question. Lemme see what it looks like so far."

Even though Claire was irritated, Ben suddenly beamed and rushed over while he had his chance. Jesse decided to go to Claire and make sure things didn't escalate.

It was a couple minutes before Tara pulled away from the cameraman. "Good. Just make sure the boom doesn't block that chandelier there. It makes strange shadows." She turned and jumped when she nearly ran right into Ben. Ben nearly leaped backward to compensate for the run-in, his hand coming out to steady her at the shoulder.

"Hi, sorry, I— uh," he stammered, speaking fast. "I'm a huge fan of your work, Miss Summerby. Could I get your autograph?"

The woman's eyes widened before her face broke in a smile. "Yes, sure. Sorry, not a request I'm used to."

Ben gave a nervous laugh as he passed her the notebook and a pen. "I'm really into local legends and history. So's my wife, actually; it's why we came down here."

"That's wonderful. So you're here at the hotel on a tour, ...what's your name?"

"Ben," he said, then blushed. "Braeden. Uh, not exactly, we were just gonna wander a bit. There's a tour?" His eyes moved to the front desk clerk real quick, then back to Tara. "What kind of tour?"

"Oh, just a regular ghost tour. They have dozens in this town," she said as she wrote. "We're doing a documentary on the spirits that haunt this place. The building has been around since 1845, but the foundations are even older. Lots of residual." She smiled, handing the notebook back to him.

Ben blinked, feeling his pulse speed up. There were ghosts here? "Nothing violent or anything though, right?" he asked, taking the notebook back.

She gave a light laugh. "No reports of ghost murderers as far as I know. Although a few accidents have been linked, by those who want to see a link."

"Neat," Ben said with a grin, though his mind immediately began racing with concern about the ghost. "Can't wait to watch the finished project. Good luck with the production."

As Ben came back, Jesse had his hands on Claire's arms, their knees lightly touching. "If you want a quieter place, we can find one. Not a fan of cameras myself."

Looking a little diffused from earlier, Claire sighed lightly, her lips pressed thin.

"I seriously doubt you'll find anything vacant _this_ weekend." Ben's movement caught her eyes, and they found his, immediately picking up on the concern.

"They've got a ghost here. Several. There've been accidents." He swallowed, shoving the little notebook into his back pocket without looking at it. "I mean, it's not uncommon down here, but... it's probably nothing."

Jesse's expression immediately fell. "Don't suppose we're allowed to just leave it?"

Claire just sighed, pushing the little lump of concern back down in her stomach.

"If we went after every spook in this city, we'd never leave New Orleans." She shouldered her bag again, sending them both a tight-lipped smile with high arched brows. "And unless we start lookin' for a barn, there're no more rooms anywhere."

She grabbed the key-cards out of her pocket, and turned for the spiral stairs leading to their room, calling behind her. "We'll handle it if we have to, but I'm not goin' lookin'."

Ben shot Jesse a look, frowning slightly, then headed after Claire. Jesse scowled at his back but followed. After all, he agreed with Claire. How much could it hurt if just this one time they didn't go digging for trouble? 

* * *

><p>He was so happy. His car was done, and he had gone out to the hill on the far end of town to see the stars, and he was just... happy. Nothing else seemed to matter. It was even better, considering the body settled against his on the hood of the car.<p>

There was a weight in his pocket, and a thought on his mind. Tonight was the night. He was going to ask her. It felt like every nerve in his body had a life of its own, but deep down he knew it would all turn out in the end. They loved each other. This was supposed to happen. Maybe it was only halfway through the school year, but that didn't change how ready he felt.

"What d'you wanna do after graduation?" he asked quietly, tipping his head in her direction. She smiled at him, that dimpled smile that always shot straight to his stomach and made it flip. Suddenly her hand was in his, lifting it so they were palm to palm, showing the difference between size.

"I dunno," she replied, her voice soft like they were sharing secrets. There wasn't another body for miles, but the atmosphere seemed to inspire that sort of response. His heart felt like it was beating faster. It probably was. "Maybe a road trip? We'll have until the second week of September. Maybe we could go to the Grand Canyon."

His lips widened into a smile as he slid his fingers between the webbing of hers, then brought it to his lips to kiss it.

"Or Yellowstone."

"Or The Cooley Dam."

He grinned, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Why not all of 'em?"

The girl smiled brighter. "Could we? Oh, Ben, that would— just you and me, out on the road, hitting up every crappy hotel along the way? Eating at shitty diners? Writing our names on the walls?"

Ben felt his heart flutter in his chest. This was it. Perfect moment. All he had to do was reach into his pocket and pull out the ring.

"Sounds like a fun trip." A third voice split the serene quiet from a little higher than the hood. It came from the roof of the car, and the figure seated there cross-legged, dead center. A figure with coiling blond hair that was gnarled and caked with blood, like the shreds of clothing she wore. Despite the horrific condition, Claire's face registered no discomfort. She was looking down at her hands. They were cleaning a gun. Ben sat up suddenly and hard, feeling the yank of the other girl's hand in his, but when he looked down at her, she was gone.

"What—" he stammered, then looked up at Claire again. "How—"

Claire didn't look up. She just pieced the pistol back together, one bit at a time.

"How _what_?" she said, still soft. Finally she flicked her eyes up to his, but before long they went back to the gun. "How am I here? Shouldn't you be asking yourself that question?"

"I didn't—" he stammered, pushing off the hood and onto the ground, his eyes all over her at once. The girl who had been there no longer mattered. She didn't even exist anymore.

"Why are you bleeding?"

Claire's lips rolled in on themselves, but again, she kept her eyes dutifully on the pistol as the handle was shoved into place.

"It's what we do, isn't it?" The hammer clicked in its latch. Claire held the sight up to her nose and looked down the length of it. "You've always known that."

Ben looked at her, then up at the sky. The stars had started going out. Everything around them seemed to be fading, in fact. His eyes turned back to her.

"No... no this is—" he said quietly, feeling a twist in his gut. "This is wrong. You weren't here. This is—" His eyes widened. "This is a dream. You're not real. But why are you—"

_Now_ she looked at him, and didn't look away. The gun and her hands dropped flusteredly into her lap. "I'm not _real_? Could'a fooled me, y'know."

She shifted then, sliding off the roof and stuffing the gun between her back and her jeans. He stared at her, trying to find where the blood had come from, forgetting for a moment that everything wasn't real. Why was she bleeding?

"Claire..." he whispered, reaching out to put his hands on her shoulders, then moved them to her face and tilted it up. "Look at me." She did, though with a look that wasn't entirely _there_. Just beneath the surface of Claire's usual 'game face' was fright and confusion that didn't seem to register. He'd had dreams that bled into each other sometimes, but never overlap.

"You're not supposed to be here," he repeated, thumbs on her cheeks. "This is a memory from when I was sixteen. You weren't here."

The words sank in, but it took forever. The glint in Claire's eyes suddenly sharpened; her lips gaped for a sharp breath...

That's how she woke up, with a gasping start that shot her up onto her elbows. Jesse jerked awake at the sudden disturbance, reaching groggily for Claire's arm. "Waswrong?"

She looked at him for half a second, wild in the eyes as she sat up straight for a frantic body-check. Wrists, arms, shoulders, all with their scars but none of them bleeding. Only then did she actually breathe, wiping her face with both palms.

Ben startled awake a half second later, though less intensely, simply breathing in hard. He looked around, relaxing only slightly when he saw they were still there.

"Claire," he breathed.

"I'm fine," she replied, though not sounding convinced. "Just... messed up dreams."

Ben rubbed his eyes with both hands, turning to look at her, his face confused. "How did you do that?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "Do what?"

"You..." he whispered, chewing his lips. "I was... I was back in Indiana, on the hood of my car, and then you were there, Claire."

Claire went very still, unable to do anything but stare.

"I—I thought..." she trailed off, her voice losing weight as she seemed to go on only in her mind. _So that was real..._ "I was in Oregon. Then—then I wasn't." She swallowed, then tried to take a deep breath. Was she shaking?

Jesse scowled, sitting up and hugging Claire around her shoulders. "They were just dreams. They're not real. You're fine."

"Mine was. I mean, it— it was a dream, but I've had it before." Ben pushed up to sitting, but he didn't reach out. The confusion still swam on his face. "You were there, weren't you? But how—"

"I didn't do _anything_," Claire answered tightly. She gripped Jesse's arm as a natural comfort, but had her eyes on Ben, just as confused and clearly frantic. "I was just... _dreaming_ about it like, like months ago, and then it just stopped and I was in... I was there, with you and..."

"Beth," he said quietly, eyes averting, his legs drawing up against his chest. "You weren't... supposed t'see that."

"Who's Beth?" Jesse looked between them. "You... Where were you?"

Claire looked between them for a minute, wholly perplexed and not particularly happy about it. She looked at Ben first, "I wasn't supposed to be _in your dream_, Ben... I think I'm a little more worried about _that_."

"You were in his dream?" Jesse said. And he couldn't help it; his eyes flicked down to the bulge of her stomach. Ben nodded, though he was a little less pointed about it.

"That shouldn't... I mean," he said quietly. "How? How is that possible?" Claire's exasperated gesture made it clear she had no idea, and that she was just as jarred by it as he was.

"Could be dreamwalkers, angels, tricksters... could be a lot'a things."

Jesse licked his lips. He should just keep quiet. Claire was right, it could be almost anything. But why would anything else bother? "Well, I couldn't do that. But I couldn't stop a werewolf in its tracks either," he said, looking at Claire. Ben's eyes went wide.

"Wait, _what?_"

Claire felt a hard pang of _something_ in her very core. She pulled in a slow breath, looking like someone had just punched her in the gut. Jesse hugged her tighter, eyes meeting Ben's almost sheepishly.

"We didn't want to worry you, but with the werewolf, when you were out of it, it...it was attacking and then Claire just looked at it and it stopped. And we're pretty sure it wasn't Claire."

Ben looked between the two of them, his eyes coming to rest on Claire, looking just as lost and confused as he did when he first woke up. Maybe it was just the fuzz of sleep still wearing off, but he just couldn't comprehend what was happening. She rolled her lips, her eyes imploring.

"I don't remember it," she whispered. "Not like I should."

"Why would it fuck with your dreams, though?" Jesse said. "That hasn't happened before, right?"

Claire shook her head, but didn't look entirely certain. "I don't know... I haven't dreamt about Oregon in months..."

The confusion drained straight out of Ben's face, replaced instead with concern as he reached out to find one of her hands.

"Shit," Jesse breathed. He pursed his lips. "So you were...there, and suddenly you were in Ben's dream?" Squeezing both of them, she nodded, her eyes a bit unfocused. Jesse let out a breath. "Well, that sounds like an improvement at least."

"At least she hasn't done anything to hurt you," Ben said quietly.

"Why would she?" Claire rasped almost immediately. "And on top of that... have either of you two noticed a distinct lack of demons around us?"

Jesse shook his head. "Belial's gone. They can't find me any more."

"They weren't supposed to be able to find you before either, but they did," Ben said quietly, following Claire's path of thought. "Because of us."

"And Jezebeth was ready to do _anything_ to do it again," Claire added, sure as the sky was blue.

"You think she's keeping them away?" he said quietly, not even trying to hide it as he looked at Claire's stomach. That was a good thing, right? So why did his intestines twist in knots?

Claire took a moment to breathe, and by instinct placed her hand on her middle.

"I think we're off the radar."

Everything was feeling too tight; Jesse couldn't breathe. He got to his feet, shifting from one to the other. "She might hurt you. She wouldn't know it, she wouldn't even mean to, but she's already that powerful, and... People get hurt, when you don't know what you're doing."

Ben moved to take Jesse's place at Claire's side, arms wrapping around her.

"She won't," he said firmly. "Even if... even if she wasn't aware, instinctively it wouldn't make sense, to jeopardize Claire. She relies on Claire."

Jesse just shook his head. "I don't know. I just know what happened with me. But this kid can do things I can't, even now."

"I don't know _either_, Jess, but what am I supposed to do?" Claire's voice was soft, and almost pleading. "It all just feels natural to me. Even the kicking."

Ben turned his eyes back to Claire, surprise registering in his eyes. There had been kicking? His hands found hers around her and threaded their fingers together.

"Jess, please calm down," he said quietly. "You're freaking out again. I didn't mean anything by what I said about hurting, all right? I just— I'm not even completely awake, and most of this isn't makin' sense, and that was the first thing to come out of my mouth. So just... please."

Rubbing at his wrists, Jesse let out a long breath before nodding. Then he looked at Ben. "Who's Beth?"

Ben's first reaction was to close his eyes and duck his head, staring down at his lap. He really, really didn't want to relive everything outside of his own head right then, but it was a better deflection than Claire and the baby.

"Someone I knew. A long time ago. It's not important."

Yeah. From Ben's reaction, she seemed really not important. But Jesse let it drop. He rolled his shoulders. "You need the bathroom first, Claire?"

She shook her head, sighing and rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just want to try and sleep."

With a sympathetic look, Jesse leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Go ahead and sleep. I'll be quick." Then he headed for the bathroom. Ben pulled back from embracing Claire, moving back down on the bed, his eyes settling on the ceiling quietly. He could hear the muffled sound through the bathroom door, but he ignored it.

He wasn't left to his devices long. A couple soft fingertips brushed his elbow from the side.

"It's alright," she said, very quietly. Ben's eyes closed on automatic, feeling the immediate result of relief from her touch, though it was only temporary. His head turned, eyes searching for hers.

"Is it?" he asked, unsure of himself. Claire pursed her lips, then pulled him close enough to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

"What's the top thing you're worried about?"

"The _top_ thing?" he echoed, brows furrowing as he tried to pick out which one. It took a moment of chewing his lip in silence before he found it. "That if this dreaming thing becomes regular, you're going to hate me. I... there's a few repeats. And I wish I could say that the fact that you _can_ bothers me, but we're married to a cambion and you're about to have some kind of prophetic baby; nothing really phases me anymore."

"...I'm going to _hate you_?" she parroted back like he'd just told her the sky was plaid. She still squeezed closer. "You wanna explain that one?"

"Not all of my dreams are that innocent," he said quietly, his eyes dropping to her throat. "And the ones that are don't always... you're not in them. I mean, _some_ of them," he corrected quickly. "You're in _some_ of them, the less— you know what, I'm just going to shut up now."

"Jesus, Ben," she nuzzled in close with a sigh, closing her eyes. "Even if I am…_dream-hopping_, I'm not the Dream Police." Or something. This was just number four-hundred or so on the list of conversations she never thought she'd be having. "You think I'd be angry because of a dream?"

Ben gave a weak laugh. "God, when you say it, it really _does_ sound stupid. You're right." He leaned in, giving her a soft kiss, then lifted up to kiss the tip of her nose as well. "Sorry, if I freaked you out by freaking out. You startled me, more'n anything." He bit his lip again, suddenly frowning. "Maybe... maybe it's that ghost, yeah? I mean, I've never heard of ghosts affecting dreams before, but maybe..."

Claire looked tired, but still pulled the same face she always did when she didn't have a clue. "Normally I'd say you're reaching, but... Hell if I know anymore."

"Could be the ghost isn't a ghost at all, just some kind of daylight hallucination everyone's having because something's here and causing this stuff." He tapered off at her look, his frown becoming more pensive. "But if that's the case, it's not dangerous. Just another weird thing in our weird lives." Claire just shook her head and pulled him back to the bed with her.

Once they were settled in, and sleep started to make her muscles heavy, she added with a lot of breath, "Pretty sure we're the most dangerous things here." 

* * *

><p>Ben wasn't a fan of site-seeing. He could understand relaxing a bit, maybe doing a little manual labor back when he needed to actually make his own income, but museums and art? They weren't really his thing. Even if it was Mardi Gras, he just couldn't get into the mood for dancing and clubs, and whatever else.<p>

He could, however, get into possibly investigating the ghost issue that Tara Summerby had mentioned. With Claire's suggestion that they may be off the grid, he didn't see any harm in it. Jesse and Claire could relax if they wanted. It might even be good, him giving them a little alone time. Since the hunt was still in its early stages, that only really left research, so he decided to go straight to the best source he had available to him: the documentarian herself. She'd already done most of the work for him, after all. It would be easy enough to pick up where she left off. As luck had it, he'd seen her earlier that afternoon in the pool doing laps, so that meant she was staying at the hotel also. All he had to do was loiter a bit until she made a reappearance, maybe sitting with his laptop in his lap in the lobby. The place was abuzz, the people coming in looking exhausted and wearing sneakers, the people going out all dressed in their finest or skimpiest clothes. Fortunately, most weren't sticking around, so Ben was able to grab an armchair pretty quickly.

He'd just settled in when suddenly a voice called, "Ben!"

When he looked up, all he saw was a very familiar torso, the man's shirt pulled up so high it covered his face. "Gimme beads!" Jesse said with a laugh as he dropped his shirt. It didn't really look like he needed more to add to the collection around his neck, though. Ben's brows lifted, then he snickered, lowering his eyes back to his laptop again.

"Sorry, fresh out," he said, flipping through the hotel's website and the links it sourced on its History section.

Jesse pouted slightly. He'd expected more of a reaction than _that_. "What're you doing?" he said, coming to sit on the arm of Ben's chair. His ass slowly slid down, insinuating itself onto Ben's lap and trying to nudge the laptop away. It worked, but only because Ben didn't want to risk the questions he knew were coming if he answered the first one. Jesse appeared to be rather distractible in his current state. Closing the laptop up and wedging it between the side of the chair and his thigh, he adjusted himself in the seat so Jesse could settle better.

"Entertaining you, looks like," he replied, hands settling on his hips.

Wrapping his arms around Ben's neck, Jesse said, "Well, that is your job. That what you were doing, looking up things to do? Looked like the hotel."

"Sourcing out from their website, since the concierge is pretty busy," Ben said, feeling a burn in rise up in his cheeks but managing to keep a straight face. He'd had years to practice bending the truth, but it was a little difficult with Jesse as close as he was.

Jesse beamed. "I was worried, when you ducked out early with Claire, that you weren't gettin' into things. What you got planned for us?"

"Uhh," Ben stammered, trying to think of something. "Probably just— one of the balls. A lot of them are already sold out, but I figure, we could probably sneak in through the back with the right kind of convincing. We'll need masks, though."

Leaning forward, Jesse was nearly nose to nose with him, his hand coming up the back of Ben's neck and running through his hair. "I'm very good at convincing, you know."

Ben's eyes fell closed and his breath hitched, held, then staggered out of him. "Yeah, I... noticed," he said quietly, trying not to fidget.

"I'm gonna get us cool masks, too. Those'll be fun." His expression relaxed into an easy smile, his hand fondly massaging Ben's scalp. "Where's Claire?"

"Prob'ly still upstairs," he mumbled. It had bothered him a little, leaving her alone. They'd barely stepped out of each other's sight since the whole issue with Belial, but her argument about being under the radar had been a good one; as had the one about her newly-developed skills. It still left him uneasy, but he trusted Claire. He was still in the same building. Things would be all right.

Jesse's hand stilled, his brow furrowing. "So why'd you come down here?"

"Thought she might like some time to herself," Ben said slowly, his eyes slowly opening.

"Why?" Jesse sat up, the panic clear in his eyes. He was easy to read at the best of times, and only more so when drunk. "Is she alright? I wouldn't've been out there if I thought—"

"Dude, _relax,_" Ben said quickly, cutting him off. "She's fine. She's just upstairs, probably resting her feet, we did a _lot_ of walking today. You know how her feet have been swelling lately. I just—" He sighed, frowned, then moved Jesse's hand out of his hair. "Nevermind. If you're so nervous, go up'n see her for yourself."

Jesse looked at Ben, then at his hand, a little put out. Then he attempted a smile. "You gonna come with me?"

Ben bit back another agitated sigh. There really wasn't any way he was going to be able to research without openly looking like he was researching and he really, _really_ didn't want the speech about his hunting. _You're the only thing I need,_ Jesse had said, accusingly, borrowing — perhaps on purpose — from his own reason why he had wanted to marry Claire.

"Yeah. I'm right behind you."

Jesse gave him a quick kiss. "I'm fucking starving, y'know. I was gonna say we should go someplace nice but if Claire's feet hurt we can just get room service; what do you think?"

"Maybe we can go pick something up and bring it back for her," Ben suggested. "Though honestly, you could probably get somethin' three times better than whatever room service here has, given the givens."

"Mm. We should look places up," Jesse said, snagging Ben's laptop from the side of the chair. Ben's eyes went a little wide and he grabbed for it.

"_Hey,_" he said a little roughly. "Ask. Don't just take."

Jesse laughed, jerking it back. "Whiny." He struggled to open it even as Ben wouldn't let go.

"I'm _serious,_" Ben snapped, pulling it back hard. "There's important shit on here. I told you that before."

Letting go, Jesse's expression fell. "I...I was just gonna look stuff up. I'm not gonna break it or something."

Ben tried not to focus on Jesse's look as he opened the laptop, closed out of the window he'd had open as quickly as he could, and brought up a new one to type in the address for the map he typically used.

"I've had this thing since high school," he said in a low voice, sounding a little distracted. "I'm just... none of it's backed up. Last two times I tried to back up a computer, shit broke down the next day out of spite. I don't wanna jinx it."

Jesse was quiet, his expression pinched. Then he said, "Why'd you close that window?"

"'Cuz I didn't need it open," Ben said dismissively. "What are you in the mood for?"

"You were looking at something. You were looking at the hotel and don't want me to see. Why?" Jesse's words were almost an accusation. Ben finally met his eyes, though he looked far from guilty. He lifted his chin a little.

"I was lookin' up the history on the place."

Jesse's jaw hardened. There was no need to guess what that meant. "You told me you were looking at balls. You lied to me."

"No," Ben corrected, though he was finding it exceedingly difficult to wind up for a fight with Jesse still in his lap and them at equal height. "I said I was sourcing out from their website since the concierge was busy. I never said I was looking up balls."

For a second, the anger broke from Jesse's expression, leaving just pure hurt. Then he crawled off of Ben's lap, heading for the door. Ben was on his feet in an instant and following after him. Several people looked their way outside, but he hardly even registered them.

"What's your problem!"

Jesse stopped in his tracks but didn't look at Ben, staring blankly forward. "You yelled at me, and you lied to me, and you're keeping secrets from me, and I don't know why."

"I'm not—" Ben said in an exasperated voice, then ran both hands through his hair angrily. "I wasn't _lying_ to you. You asked the wrong questions, and I didn't wanna fight about what I _was_ doin' when I wasn't doin' anything to bother anybody."

His eyes shone when he looked at Ben. "So it's my fault for expecting you to be open with me. 'Cause we're not supposed to be partners or anything."

The words felt like an actual stab, and Ben found himself staggering forward to to reach for him, but abruptly stopped. It was very likely Jesse would just push him away, and the last thing he wanted was a repeat of that experience again. His jaw clenched and unclenched.

"That's not fair," he said lowly. "You did the same thing with Claire to me. I just... wanted to make sure, all right? I didn't want you to freak out and get on my case for doin' somethin' as natural to me as your convincing people is to you."

Jesse let the words sit there a moment, before finally nodding, his eyes turning to the ground. "Fine. If you want to hunt, you can hunt. Do whatever you want." Then he started for the street.

"Please don't—" Ben called out, then jogged after him. "This is why! This is why I didn't say anything, because I knew you'd do this! Don't just freakin'—"

"I mean it, Ben," Jesse said, looking him straight in the eye. "If you want to hunt the ghost, go ahead. Just...don't lie to me again. Or not tell me something 'cause I didn't ask the right questions. Alright?"

Ben stood there, feeling his insides roiling, still wanting to reach out and grab him, to keep him there, to take back the last ten minutes and have a do-over. But he couldn't. Jesse was looking at him like he'd committed the worst kind of betrayal, and he had. His eyes welled up.

"I'm sorry, okay? We fight about this all the time, and I just didn't wanna fight anymore. You make me feel like shit every single time."

Jesse stared at the ground, knowing he would break if he looked at Ben. "It's my fault. This is me trying to fix that. I'll stop questioning you or forcing you to do things or touching your computer. I promise. I just want to go get food now. You can go hunting."

"It can wait," he said, moving closer and grabbing his hands. "I'll go with you."

There was a long pause before Jesse squeezed his hands. "Do you want me to be honest, too?"

"Even if it hurts," Ben said, feeling the anxiety reach a boiling point. He was genuinely afraid now.

"I kind of want to be alone right now," he whispered to their hands. "Just need to think. 'Bout me. How I can stop hurting you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Only if you're coming back," Ben said, holding on tightly.

That got Jesse to look up. "Always. I could never even think of leaving you, or Claire. They'd have to kill me."

Ben didn't want to ask who _they_ were. For all intents and purposes, they was everyone. "Okay," he said in a tight, reluctant voice, forcing himself to get Jesse's hands go.

Before he pulled away completely, Jesse leaned up, giving him a soft kiss. "I love you. I swear I do."

Ben made a noise that was on its way to being a sob, the heels of his hands coming up to swipe under his eyes. He couldn't handle a complete disconnect after something so intense, it was too much, and he quickly grabbed him for one hard embrace and another kiss. "Love you, too," he muffled into his shoulder. "I'll be here when you get back."

Jesse melted into him, and suddenly nothing else mattered. "Fuck it," he said, his voice hitching. "I'll just think here. It won't be any real difference."

"Can we just pretend all that didn't happen?" Ben said against his neck, the words coming out like a steady stream, heavy with repressed emotion. "Please? I mean, unless— I don't want you thinkin' your opinion doesn't matter, that you don't matter, because _you do._ You matter _so much_, Jess, and it fuckin' _killed me_ when I thought you thought you'n Claire weren't the first thing on my mind always, because you _are_, you _are—_"

"I know, I know," Jesse hushed him. "I'm going to learn to stop saying things like that, to stop hurting you, I swear."

Ben's embrace tightened around him and he went silent, just holding on, trying to find his footing. Holding him _and_ the laptop was an awkward task, but he managed. "I'll go upstairs. You can go pick something up and bring it back. Or not. It's your choice. I just wanna give you space if you need space, and I can compromise; I'll do anything."

"It's fine." Jesse pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I won't be long, okay?"

Ben nodded, pulling back reluctantly, then turned and headed back into the hotel.

Jesse watched him go, biting his lip. There was too much going through his head, and it was swimming. He just wanted to always be apart of what Ben and Claire did, even if he didn't like it. With a sigh, he headed down the street. He didn't know what food he was going to get, but he was definitely coming back with a bottle of rum. 

* * *

><p>"No, no, if we extend leisure time, we won't be able to finish today's project," Ruth said, looking up from the day planner and into the face of the one who suggested the idea. "Extended leisure time is better set on the weekends, or in the spring when the days start getting longer. The older ones will complain, and the younger ones will be more reluctant to get back to work."<p>

"The younger ones don't do much work anyway," he grumbled. "And they shouldn't, if we follow the model. The younger ones would be in schools, then going home to do homework and play with their friends. Not—"

"Silas," Ruth interrupted. "You're not wrong, I acknowledge that. But making the change this suddenly will throw off the routine. Routines are important. We could introduce it gradually, but we shouldn't do it all at once."

"Too gradually and they'll all be full grown before we get it in place," Phoebe said, scowling. "We need to actually start scheduling this kind of thing in, work it into what they're doing now."

Ruth frowned. "I'm not saying we take a year or more to do it. We can increase it by fifteen minutes to each leisure period every day for the next... three weeks? Until everyone's properly adjusted. And double it on the weekends, until it gets to the suggested amounts per group."

Caleb twisted his black hair around his finger. "I think that's a good idea. Fifteen minutes shouldn't throw them too much."

"You say them like they're something different from us," Phoebe said dryly.

"Each group will have more or less, so technically he's right," Ruth pointed out. "Our group will have the least change, being as we are the operators. But we can have longer weekends. Three days instead of two. And that can be an immediate—"

She cut herself off with a sudden inhale, feeling a lifting euphoria starting in the pit of her stomach that only meant one thing. Caleb was on his feet in an instant, eyes on the door. "He's here."

"Not yet," Ruth clarified in a breathless sort of voice. "He's still outside the building. We'll continue this conversation once he's gone."

Silas, who had been a little sulky upon hearing his suggestion dashed for the day, had also immediately perked up at Jesse's arrival. [_Hope he stays longer this time last time he was only here for a few minutes—_]

[_Because he had his own training to do, Silas._] Ruth quickly admonished, trying to keep as calm as she could. The others didn't spend as much time with their leader as she did. Sometimes they got jealous.

"I'll ask him if he can stay longer today. But don't get your hopes up."

"I won't," Phoebe said flatly.

Caleb, however, was done waiting. He tore out the door, going to join the inevitable crowd.

"Don't be such a bitch, Pheobe," Silas snarked, heading out the door on Caleb's heels. "Wait up!"

Ruth frowned in response, making a mental note to talk to him later before turning her eyes to the brunette.

"Go on. I know you want to see him."

"I do," Phoebe said heavily even as she got up and headed for the door. "Which is why it hurts."

Ruth bit her lower lip. "There's too many of us for him to see everyone individually every single time. You know that."

"That's not it. I just wish he wanted to stay half as much as we want him to."

Ruth felt the burn of empathy at the statement, feeling it just as strongly deep down in her bones, but she knew the reasons why. He hadn't been hardwired the same way they had; he didn't know what it felt like. Her hand came up to rest briefly on Phoebe's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and then a nudge.

"Go on, or you'll end up way in the back again."

She left without another word, and Ruth sighed, quickly moving to the side room — her personal quarters — to clean up a little. There had been a moment there where she worried that Pheobe might flip the words back on her, comment on how Jesse _always_ made time for her. Thankfully it hadn't happened. She didn't know if she had a reassuring comment to make as a counter-argument to that claim when she knew that it was right. Rather than wait for him to come through, she moved to the foyer and waited, knowing it would take him a while yet to make it back. Forty-five minutes later, Jesse came through the door, his wide smile practically shining.

"Last but never least," he said, taking her in a tight hug. "Hi, Ruth."

Ruth closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace, breathing in deeply before her arms finally circled around him. It felt _so good_, being held by him.

"Hi," she breathed out, her face burying into his neck.

He breathed in deep, wrapped up in a blanket of good feelings. "I can't be long. I just...needed to come by."

Ruth frowned a little, pulling back just enough to look at him. "You... but they miss you. You weren't long last time you were here." [_I miss you please don't just come and go again it isn't fair please—_]

"I'm sorry," he said, his expression pulling down. "They're probably missing me already. I didn't expect to come. But I promise, this Sunday I'll come for a long visit. The full day even."

Ruth leaned in again, holding on a little tighter.

[ _You could have just called for me if you needed a fix I would've come._ ]

Jesse shook his head. "I wanted to see everyone, make sure they know I'm thinking about them. That they can talk to me if they need to."

His response left her baffled, and again she pulled back, taking his hand and leading him to the little chaise in the corner of her room. She could feel the buzz of her brothers and sisters, practically piling up behind their doors. Likely he'd told them to go back to what they had been doing, once he had greeted all of them. Pheobe, Silas, and Caleb were already on their way back.

"You know you're contradicting yourself," she said quietly. "You've told them they can't rely on you. That you shouldn't be their sole focus. They need you _all the time,_ Jess."

Jesse frowned, settling his hands on his knees. "I know. I don't mean to confuse them. It's just that I don't always know what's right. I'm trying to figure it out. I want all of you to be independent, but if you need me, I want to be there." He chewed on his bottom lip a moment. "Maybe they could email me."

Ruth bit her lip to keep from smiling, her brows lifting. "You would be answering emails until the end of times." She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. Quiet voices snuck out from beneath the crack in the door.

"Let's go for a walk or something. You need to talk, I can hear it in your voice."

[ _Can he stay longer can he want to see him almost two weeks since he's been by last—_ ]

Jesse's expression turned sad. [ _Sorry, Silas, no, not this time. Sunday, I promise, the whole day._ ]

Ruth could feel the buzz of disappointment from the other two _Geds_ and took Jesse's hand again, holding it a little tighter.

"Come on," she whispered. "They'll start begging."

He nodded, his head hanging a bit low as they disappeared and came up in the woods.

"I hate hurting people," he said quietly. She slid her arm around him, leaning in close, leading them into a slow walk.

"It's unavoidable," she told him, her voice soft. "Everyone wants. Even us. More so now, actually. Before we just... did as we were told, without ever knowing what it is to want something."

"I guess that's...good? Better to be free to be hurt?" He looked over at her, desperately hoping for an affirmative.

"I don't know," she answered, not looking at him. "I don't... I don't like it, the feeling of not having what I want. Having desires means being able to feel disappointment, regret, anger, all of it. Before, all I knew was duty. If I was wrong, I was punished. If I was right, I was left alone."

Jesse's expression drained and he stopped, unable to move forward. "Was it better?" he asked quietly.

"It was different," she said, turning her gaze up to his face. She gave him a weak smile, moving one hand up to touch his face. "I was a soldier. Part of me always will be. It can be wonderful, wanting something and getting it." Just being able to touch him filled her with so much happiness, she could burst. "Pleasing you... it feels good. Knowing I did something right. I never felt that way with Sir and the others."

Jesse relaxed against the touch, closing his eyes. "As long as the good outweighs the bad. I don't want to have made your life worse."

Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest. He was so close, so pliant. All she had to do was lean in, press her lips against his. She'd done it before, and it felt so wonderful, but maybe he would kiss her back this time. She wanted him to _so badly._

"You couldn't. You could never make my life worse."

He smiled, opening his eyes, though they stayed hooded. He swayed slightly, heat coursing through him. "Thank you. So much."

Ruth leaned up and in, arms wrapping around his neck as she moved to kiss him. The pleasure that surrounded him from such a simple touch pulled a groan from his throat, his mouth pressing to hers. Every single nerve in her body felt like it flared to life, reaching out for him, and she pressed herself against him until they were nearly seamless, deepening the kiss. One hand slid into his hair, twisting down against his scalp, then ran down to rest against the back of his neck, making him shiver. It was like an echo in his nerves, her body pressed to his, his to hers—except that felt like his, too. Like he was one mind in two bodies, the pleasure rebounding over and over.

He pulled back with a needy groan. "_Claire_."

The name was like a slap and Ruth recoiled, pulling away, all the euphoria and bliss sapped out of her. It didn't even matter that it had been the single most perfect ten seconds of her life; he rendered it meaningless with that one word. Jesse gasped a half second later, his skin jumping as though ice water had been poured over him. Then he stared at Ruth.

"Wha...what was that? Ruth, why did you _do_ that?"

"You..." she breathed, her heart aching. "I... you wanted it. I was just..."

"I...I didn't." Jesse's hands were shaking. He knew that was the truth, to his very core. But he also knew the sheer and overwhelming need that had coursed through him. "Ruth, you were getting better. You have to block me off from...from those feelings. They weren't mine."

"Like the ones at the house weren't?" she pointed out, moving closer again, finding his hands. "You reached for me. You pushed me away and then you reached for me again. You're always reaching for me, I can feel it all the time."

"Not like that!" Jesse snapped, yanking his hands back and clenching them into fists at his sides. "I need you as a friend, a sister! Just, be that for me, okay? Not anything else."

"_Why?_" she countered, feeding off his anger until it became hers. Her hand thrust out behind her, pointing in the direction of the base. "_They_ are my brothers and sisters. I don't _need_ that, not from you."

"That's all I can be for you. Don't you get it?" He paced, turning his back on her. "I can't come here if that's how you feel; I _won't_ come here. So fucking listen to me this time."

It was that threat that silenced her, even more than the force in his words. "So that's it?" she whispered. "You won't be our leader, but you'll just... use us as your pick-me-up on the bad days? Have me save your friends, then stick me back in the box until the next time I'm useful? And I'm not supposed to want anything in return, unless it's what you want me to want?"

Jesse froze, his insides wrenching. "I don't— I didn't—" He swallowed hard. "I don't want to use you. I want to be your friend. But I can't be more than that. I can't."

"Because of _them._" She clenched her hands into fists. "If you'd never found them, I wonder how different all of this would've been." Ruth shook her head. "You go back there and tell the others, all of them, that you aren't coming back. No more visits, nothing. And then you stay away from us, and see how well it works out."

"Please." He turned, his eyes meeting hers, unblinking. "Please, I don't want to do that. You don't want that either."

"_It doesn't matter what I want!_" she shouted, visibly shaking, the ground around her trembling with her anger. "I can't _have_ what I want! None of us can! And you tell me— you tell me not to want what you want, but then you _call on me_ and I will _always come,_ don't you understand! All I want is you! All _they_ want is _you!_"

Jesse grabbed her hands, trying to calm her enough so the earth didn't shake. "I'm sorry, please. I want to help, that's all I want to do. I want to make it better for everyone, even you." His eyes sought hers. "He would have died without you. Can that be the rule? Only if it's life or death?"

"Only if it's life or death and _your friends,_" she countered, so much bitterness in her voice it was a wonder she wasn't sneering. "Because if I did that for anyone else, anywhere else in the world, do you know what they'd do to me? To my brothers and sisters?"

[_ Run run run always running run and hide can't let them find me can't let them see me they'll kill me and then where would I go not heaven not hell I'm a monster that's why they'll always hunt us always always ALWAYS_ ]

"We heal because we are meant to fight the fiercest things in all creation, and to keep fighting until they destroy us, body and soul. Not to stop humans from dying. It isn't _normal,_ and _isn't that what you want us to be?_ What you want _me_ to be? Not to _rely_ on you or my powers?"

His hands squeezed tighter without him realizing. "I...I want you to choose. To choose what and who you want to be, and decide things for yourself. If...if that means not healing Ben and Claire, I'll live with that."

It was a lie. He knew it. The moment Ben or Claire was in trouble, any well-reasoned argument would go out the window. He would make Ruth help them. The guilt of their lives would be better than the guilt of their deaths.

Ruth yanked her hands away from him, pushing them through her hair and putting a foot of distance between them. It was like a physical ache to do both, and every fiber of her being protested it.

"You're a horrible liar, Master," she said ruefully. "And the worst part of it is, it doesn't make any difference. We're nothing but tools. That's all we were born to be, and that's what we'll die being."

Jesse stared at her, his hands still held out as if hers were there. "You're not just a tool to me, Ruth. You really aren't. I..." His hands drop. "It might be better if we changed things some. Maybe you...shouldn't have to be in charge all the time."

"You think that's where my problem is?" she countered, shaking her head at him. "They were taught to listen to me. I'm you're lieutenant; when you're not here, they do as I say."

"That's the problem. If you're just following my orders, and they're following yours, how is this progress?" He shook his head. "Besides, the way things are... Ruth, you worry me."

"I do what I have to do to simulate a daily modern environment with the limited amount of resources I have," she said crisply, her body language rigid. "Working against at least twenty-five years of collective conditioning, with three hundred males and females. You visit once a week for a few hours. What would you _suggest_ I do that I'm not already doing?"

"_I don't trust you!_" he snapped. "That shit you just pulled, you knew that was wrong, you _knew_ it. But that didn't stop you."

Ruth stared at him, eyes wide and shining, utterly speechless. His heart twisted, so he looked away from her.

"You don't know how scary that is, someone putting thoughts in your head that you don't want. If you ever do that again, I won't stop coming, but I'm putting someone else in charge. I need to trust the person at the top here."

The word repeated in her head, over and over, each time a little louder than the last. Her eyes filled with tears and her vision blurred, but she didn't argue. He looked up, his expression squinching but he didn't apologize. He had to draw a line.

Walking forward, he gave her arm a squeeze. "I still care about you, okay? I'll see you Sunday. We'll talk more then."

[ _failed failed failed failed doesn't trust me doesn't trust me no no no don't want this what good am I can't do anything right can't be human can't be a good soldier worthless useless failure doesn't want me—_ ]

Her head nodded on automatic, but still she stayed quiet, trembling against his touch. His throat felt like it was closing.

"Don't. Please don't do that," he whispered. "I...I do trust you. Just close yourself off, remember? That's all. Just don't do that again."

"Yes, Master," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Can I go home now?"

"As long as you stop calling me 'master,'" he said, trying to smile. She didn't return it, simply pulling back and blinking out of existence. For a while, Jesse couldn't move, the pain so tight he wanted to curl up and forget the world existed. But he couldn't; he wouldn't. With a shuddered breath, he went home.

The hotel was mostly dark, the television on but sound turned down to a low hum. Claire was already in bed, dozing, her hair already starting to twist up into a lion's mane as she slept. Ben was sitting up in the bed next to her, shirtless and barefoot with the laptop in his lap. His eyes lifted the moment he heard the tell-tale sound of Jesse's entrance. It was almost inaudible, save for the inhale and settling of his weight on his feet. Ben offered him a small smile. Jesse tried feebly to return it.

"You should be asleep," he said, barely above a whisper.

"It's always hard to when you aren't here," Ben countered in the same quiet voice.

Any trace of a smile vanished. "I'm sorry. I tried to get back sooner. I didn't mean to keep you waiting, I just... It wasn't..."

"Hey, it's fine," the younger man said quickly, his lips turning down in a small frown. "There's a lot of them. I dunno how you manage to squish it all into one day as it is." He closed up the laptop, leaning off the far side of the bed to put it on the ground and click off the television. The room went dark save for the bedside table light, and Ben patted the bed to invite Jesse in.

Relief washing over him, Jesse toed off his shoes and took off his pants before he crawled on the bed, curling against Ben and closing his eyes. Ben slid an arm around him, nails scratching at his back through the shirt before brushing his lips against his forehead.

"Rough night?"

"Yeah," Jesse breathed, though he felt himself relaxing just at touching Ben. "I keep making people mad."

Ben cracked a weak smile. Having been a victim of it, he wasn't sure he had much in the way of comforting words. "You're getting better," he said after a moment. "And far as what happened today between you'n me, it isn't all you. I did an asshole thing, not talking."

Jesse shook his head, nuzzling his face against Ben's chest. "I don't want to think about it. There are things we have to talk about, but not tonight."

The smile slid away, but Ben hummed in acquiesce, kissing his forehead again and closing his eyes. Feeling wrapped around the two people he loved was the ultimate comfort, and it took no time for him to start drifting away. 

* * *

><p>There were times when Claire loved crowds, just like there were times where she absolutely detested them. Then there were the different <em>kinds<em> of crowds; those in a busy bar, those at a sporting event or concert, even panic-driven mobs.

Mardi Gras was all of the above.

There were designated parts of the celebration that were labeled 'family friendly', but no one besides the locals really knew about those. Everything else surrounded them like a sea, turbulent and loud as a storm, but the lightning was jazz music and the thunder were joyous (drunken) screams. Even though she'd dressed for the occasion, Claire still firmly believed she was the only sober person in a five mile radius. That included her two companions.

"How is it so hot when it's dark outside!" Ben shouted out, not completely aware of the volume of his voice, and the Batman mask blocking off some of his hearing.

Jesse draped an arm around his shoulder before pulling him into a headlock. "S'cause I'm so hot, mate," he said, grinning and ruffling Ben's hair. He wore a simple brown mask with horns curling away from the brows. The chick selling it had said it was a faun mask, which apparently was some randy goat-man thing. He just liked the horns. He might have already been a couple drinks in when he bought it.

Claire, who saw her elegant white satin and lace mask with sober eyes, just smirked at the two of them and their antics. She was enjoying the reverie as much as anyone, though perhaps on a few different levels. Looking around at this point was useless anyway, given the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd — most of which was taller than her anyway. Maybe it was because of that, plus the fact that she was destined to be babysitting the both of them later on, that she had to keep burying a sense of unease. Maybe it was just normal caution, or the faint smell of booze and vomit in the air.

Ben reached back behind him and gave Jesse's ass a smack before tugging his head free. The mask nearly came away with it, but he managed to keep it on. He caught the sight of Claire's lips turned down and he lifted his mask, cheeks bright red even in the dark. The air certainly felt colder.

"You okay, babe?"

She pursed her lips in a quick thought, sliding her gaze beneath the mask from the crowd to Ben and Jesse, giving a small shrug. "Just a lot to watch, no big deal."

Jesse swung over to them, his hand sliding to the small of her back and pressing her against him. "Could go someplace. It'd be smaller. We could dance." He started swaying his hips to some imagined beat. "Or I could give you somethin' to watch right here?"

The pensive nature of her smile melted away — at least, for the most part. It was hard to pay attention to tiny paranoias with that kind of incentive. She grinned, a warm, purr of a chuckle hummed against his lips with a quick kiss, during which, her free hand reached out for Ben's shirt.

"Wanna see who can get more beads?"

Ben laughed, his cheeks going even brighter as he followed her cue, tugging the dark blue button-up to chin level. Jesse laughed, dipping his head down to give a quick lick between Ben's pecs. Ben's eyes went wide, hearing shrieks of praise from somewhere he couldn't quite locate, and then several strands were thrown in his direction. He immediately looked to Claire, looking like a startled rabbit.

She just snorted with clear amusement at them both. Maybe they were drunk, but they were having fun, and that was _definitely_ a spark of competition in Jesse's eyes. And since they were already drawing looks from the crowd, she took advantage.

First, she got their attention with a the typical wiggle-swoop pull of her tank top, and crammed it in her belt loop. Still masked, Claire held her arms open at the cheering crowd and said: "The more beads I get, the more I'll do to them." And pointed at Ben and Jesse. The nearby volume of the crowd seemed to double, and beads were flung at them from all directions. More than Ben could count. His heart was suddenly racing. Jesse, however, was over the moon. This was his element, and although he had a feeling he'd be losing this one, Claire's incentive wasn't without its perks.

"Hey, hey!" he called, stepping in front of her. "More beads come to me, more clothes I take off! Mine and hers!" Claire's low chuckle was drowned out by the predictable surge of the crowd's enthusiasm. It was raining strings of colorful beads, enough to be annoying if it didn't stop eventually, but for right now, the contest was sealed. There was literally no way to tell who was throwing them for whom. Ben felt a little dizzy at the idea of it, of Jesse disrobing both him and Claire as she worked both of them over.

Tipping his head back with a laugh, Jesse grabbed the collar of his tight white shirt. It took a moment to find a weak spot, but the moment he did, he tore, splitting it down the middle. He swung the remains over his head and tossed it to the crowd, dancing to his own rhythm as he turned to Claire with a wide grin.

Ben continued to watch, wide-eyed and speechless, flashing back to every single similar instance in their year's worth of travel and quickly becoming hard. The rush of blood was so intense, so quick, that he visibly swayed on his feet. Claire seemed to be the first to notice, her expression faded just as quick. She was at his side in half a second, chuckling nervously as she put herself under his shoulder.

"Sensory overload, babe?"

"Just a bit," he slurred, smiling at her.

"You alright?" Jesse said, grabbing Ben's other arm. There was as chorus of boos from the crowd, so he turned around. "Show's over! Go back to what you were doing!"

The compliant crowd turned away, as though they'd never stopped to watch.

"You look like you need a seat, mate," Jesse said, lightly bumping Ben's forehead to his. Ben immediately found his mouth, kissing him deep and sloppily, one hand winding up into his hair and twisting in tight.

"Well, that's another way to draw attention," Claire chuckled lightly, arranging her hair after pulling her top back on.

Jesse was lost in his mouth, the heat and taste of whiskey against his tongue. He slid a hand between them, rubbing his palm against Ben through his pants. While his mouth pulled back, his hand stayed put while the other hooked the front of Claire's pants and pulled her close.

"We could, y'know. Right here," he breathed. Ben shook his head.

"Things I'd do to you, it wouldn't matter that it's Mardi Gras. I'd be in jail for a while," he said, his voice nearly getting lost in the din of the crowd.

"I hope that goes for both of us," Claire quipped with a half-smile on her face and a hand crammed in Jesse's back pocket, but it didn't take her long to go back to looking around.

Jesse shook his head, though it made his balance wobble. "No one'd care. I'd make them not care. I can do anything."

That brought Claire's attention right back. She looked him in the eyes — mask to mask. His eyes went wide and he swallowed. "...If you want me to."

Ben, oblivious to the exchange between them, only pressed harder into Jesse's hand. All he wanted was to take him, right then, but Ben knew how Jesse would feel the next morning if he knew what he'd done.

"C'mon. Back to the hotel." His eyes turned back to Claire. "Both of you."

As the three of them headed off in the direction of the cabs lined up on the side street, two sets of eyes followed them. They exchanged looks, then followed at a casual, ambling pace. 

* * *

><p>Jesse's whole body quivered but he gave Claire's ass a squeeze as he pulled back, sitting back on his heels. "Alright, you two. An hour to rest and then we're headed out again."<p>

Claire somehow managed a weak laugh through her hard breaths, practically collapsing with her cheek on Ben's chest. Ben's arms wrapped around her as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do, feeling more relaxed and at peace than he had in days. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how long it had been since they'd lost themselves in each other. It reminded him how much life had changed since everything had started drifting off their main path. Brushing his lips against her forehead, he said to the both of them:

"I know we've been talkin' a little bit about where we're gonna end up in a few months." Some of the Midwestern accent started slipping into his voice, like it usually did when he was tired, drunk, or well-spent. "So I called my dad, a few days back. Asked him how he felt about it. He said s'long as you two are, he'd be fine. Just throwin' that out there."

Holding his breath, Jesse pulled off his mask, it trying to stick to his sweaty skin. Then he slid out next to them, looking at Ben's face. "I...I think that'd be a pretty good idea, actually," he said, running a hand along Ben's arm. "Aside from you two, they're the only hunters I trust."

Claire wasn't reluctant, but she was contemplative — once she could concentrate on something other than fixing her breathing, that is.

"It'd be safe," she said with a nod, nudging her mask into her hair with two fingers, meeting their eyes with lifted brows. "He just... was alright with it? I gotta admit, I kinda wish I'd heard that conversation." The rural Illinois twang was back in her own voice, as well. Ben gave a little nod.

"He's still a little uneasy about the whole Two Men and a Little Lady act, but I think the more he sees it, the more he'll warm up."

Claire snorted at the 'little lady' comment. Jesse groaned. "Yeah, can you never call us that again?"

That made Ben laugh. "Just framin' it like he did, only with a few more words." Some of the good humor faded and he chewed his lip, smoothing one hand down Claire's back. "So you're both cool with it? Even after the recent developments?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows, scooting in closer. "What, like Claire's stuff? We always knew the kid wasn't going to be normal. It's just happening sooner. Dean should be alright with it, right?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I was... I dunno, thinking it would be a little while before we really started to see anything. And that we'd get out before anything weird happened. I know things are a bit weird between him and Sam, but I don't know how he feels about _other_ people's weirdness."

Claire just looked at him.

"You didn't tell him, did you."

"Of course not," Ben said quickly. "Even when I filled him in on what had gone down after we got out of Clifton. Far as he knows, that kid is average as any kid'll be."

"Shouldn't matter much, really," Jesse said quietly. "He always treated me fine, even knowing what I am."

Ben bit his lip but didn't know what to say in response. Claire just rolled her lips. It had its pros and cons — the fact that this whole thing involved Dean's _son_ would be a contributing factor, but it was the best option they had, so far.

"We'll make it work," she said finally, believing her own words.

Leaning in, Jesse kissed first Ben then Claire on the cheek. "Glad we got a plan. Now rest." He rolled to his feet, headed to the bathroom. "We won't get to do this kinda shit every again soon, so I'm doing it _all_ tonight."

Again Ben laughed, a little more heartily than the last one, and he easily snuggled his cheek in close to Claire's face, feeling content. Sleep wasn't exactly on the forefront of his mind, but he could definitely get behind a little relaxing in their current position. 

* * *

><p>As it turned out, the more Ben researched the hotel, the more he realized just how true Claire's original comment about the merit in multiple hauntings of New Orleans was. There had certainly been a pattern of appearances, but there had never been anything more than a few minor injuries regarding startled hotel patrons and staff. It had been depressing to some degree, but also something of a relief. Hoping not to completely waste the work, he decided to present Jesse with the idea of witnessing a death echo first hand. He'd only really had negative experiences with hunts: it was worthwhile to show him that not all of them ended in blood or pain for a hunter.<p>

"We might even be able to knock it out of its loop if we try," Ben said, tying the laces of his boots. "Or, push comes to shove, we could go burn the bones. Put her to rest. Just because she isn't hurting anybody, doesn't mean she isn't stuck here."

"What if she wants to stay here?" Jesse asked, working on his cufflink. He felt a bit awkward, looking so fancy when Ben looked normal. "You sure you don't want to dress up, too? People are gonna give me funny looks."

"It's 11:30, nobody's gonna give you funny looks," Ben tossed back, though a grin snuck onto his face. "If we're _both_ wearing tuxes they might. When was the last time you saw two guys just walking around in two tuxes without havin' something specific going on?"

"People would assume we were going some place together. But I guess we can't have that now, can we?" he teased. "Can I at least borrow your mask when we're in public? I'll fit in better."

"Oh fine," Ben grumbled playfully, already yanking off his shirt. "But now I have to get undressed again."

"I'd stop you, but that would seem wrong," Jesse said, running a hand up Ben's back.

The sound of running water coming from the bathroom, which had been the background of their entire conversation, didn't stop. But it did get just a little bit louder, when Claire pushed back the curtain, calling out through the open door.

"Maybe you should concentrate more on what you're going to do than what you're wearing."

Ben's eyes had fallen closed for just a moment, completely willing to nix the whole adventure just from that one suggestive touch, but Claire's words brought him back to himself. He gave a laugh, undressing a bit more quickly before he went to get his suit out of his bag. It was a little wrinkled, but it would do.

"He's just looking for an excuse to get me dressed up again!" Ben called back.

"Or undressed again, I'm not picky!" Jesse called with a grin. Claire rolled her eyes a bit, and went back to washing the soap off her skin. It was another few moments before she spoke again.

"So were you planning on telling me or not?"

Ben moved to lean up against the the wall sharing the door while he pulled on his pants so he didn't have to shout.

"'Course we were," he said. "But I was at least gonna wait until you were out of the shower. It's only an echo."

"Well don't have too much fun," she quipped mildly, the sound of water accompanying her voice. "Try to bring back some ice cream — I'm gonna get a massage."

Jesse frowned slightly but didn't say anything. He'd make sure they went some place really nice for dinner that night, something Claire would love to eat. Ben, in the meantime, had already gotten his shirt and jacket on, and was struggling with his tie.

"Dammit, I always hated this thing," he muttered, twisting it uselessly. "I should've just gotten a freakin' snap-on one."

"Then I'd just have to vomit on it," Jesse said, taking the fabric from his hands and tying it himself. Ben laughed quietly in response, feeling a flush in his cheeks, staring into Jesse's face as he worked. When he was done Ben took his mouth in a quick kiss, then bent down again to fish out something to tie his hair back with.

"She isn't gonna believe for a second that I'm her fiance," he said, twisting the rubberband around quickly with practiced ease. "Men didn't get married with full beards and long hair back in 1928 unless they were hicks."

"I can play the part. I can charm anyone, even a ghost," Jesse said with a grin. "And if she tries to tear my head off, you can stop her."

"And where exactly am I gonna keep my rifle, genius?" Ben teased, giving him a swat as he ducked inside the bathroom real quick to give Claire a kiss goodbye. She peeked out the corner of the shower curtain, one eye shut from a thin layer of shampoo. It flicked toward Jesse.

"Did I seriously just hear you say you can charm a ghost? How'd that go last time you tried?"

His smile fell. "This time is different."

Swiping soap from her eye, Claire flashed him a small smile, one that said she believed him — and believed _in_ him. "I know. Just don't lose your head."

"He won't," Ben reassured her, sliding his arm around Jesse. "I've got his back. I'll make sure to film it on my phone so you can watch later, eh?" 

* * *

><p>Despite his words, Jesse's stomach squirmed with nerves. What if Ben underestimated everything? What if the ghost was more than they could handle?<p>

"You never told me what happened to her?" he said as they made their way down the hall.

"The priest killed her," Ben said, his voice soft as he fingered the keycard he'd managed to swipe off one of the bellhops. "Turns out, he'd loved her since they were children. He couldn't handle the idea of her getting married, so he killed her, then ran off. They never found him."

"Shit. That's fucked up," he said with a slight laugh. "I know ghosts don't die in good ways or anything, but shit."

"Jealousy can wreck people," Ben agreed sagely. They arrived at the door and swiped the card through it. "Once someone feels it, likely they can never get past it. All they can think about is how bad they want it and who it is denying 'em. It's a wonder the guy didn't kill the fiance instead, but I guess he thought, if he couldn't have her nobody would."

Jesse's feet kept moving but he wasn't really watching where he was going. _If you'd never found them, I wonder how different all of this would've been._ The look on Ruth's face... He still hadn't told Ben and Claire what happened. He thought after Sunday would be best, to make sure they didn't stop him going, but he was just as lost now as he was then. _Block it out._ Now was his time with Ben and Claire, in New Orleans. It was supposed to be the best time of their lives.

Reaching out, he took Ben's hand, bringing it up to his lips. "What're your thoughts on drugs?" he said lightly.

Ben's brows knit up in confusion at such a weird question. "What, taking them? Or in general?"

"Taking them. I know we generally stick to booze, but I thought, if you wanted to explore some..."

Ben chewed his lip, pushing the door open and pulling them both inside. He locked it, then slid the bolt into place to make sure they weren't interrupted. Several pieces of camera equipment were set up around the room. Ms. Summerby was likely doing a dramatization shot the following day.

"Depends on what, I guess."

"Something easy," Jesse reassured him, looking around the empty room. "Pot or ecstacy. Just to make things, y'know, more."

Ben shook his head a little, his expression thoughtful. "I don't really see the point of pot. A friend of mine in high school gave me a contact high once and it just made me hungry and sleepy. Ex might be interesting, though." He looked down at his wrist, pressing the light-up button to check the time. Ten minutes and counting.

Leaning over, Jesse kissed his jaw. "Alright. I'll look into it." That sounded pretty good; just getting absolutely lost in Ben and Claire. Nothing else on his mind. He let out a breath. "Any advice?"

"Just be calm," Ben said gently, turning his cheek up and toward Jesse's face, finding his mouth to kiss him. "She's gonna be pretty lost to everything. All she knows is this last ten minutes or so. But like you said, you're pretty convincing. I believe in you."

Jesse smiled slightly. "Thank you. I'll try. What's her name?"

"Helen," Ben replied. It was so hard not to take his mouth and just pin him against the wall. He looked _so hot_ in that suit. "She was nineteen."

Pursing his lips, Jesse nodded and waited. It was a couple minutes more until, between one blink and the next, a woman in white suddenly stood in the middle of the room. Jesse's stomach twisted as he stepped forward.

"Helen?"

She remained oblivious to him, moving to the nearby mirror to look at herself in it. Her dress was beautiful, and she all but glowed with happiness. A low hum lifted around the room: the wedding march. Ben watched from where he was perched against the wall, looking sad.

Walking up behind her, Jesse tried to meet her eyes in the mirror. "Helen, look at me," he said, force behind the words.

There was a moment where she stopped midstep, turning her head. But she didn't look at Jesse so much as she looked through him. Her smile suddenly softened, became more hesitant as she turned.

"Oh, Michael." She suddenly stopped, eyes dropping. "Sorry. Um, Father Enders. I wasn't expecting you for another ten minutes. Is it time for my prayers?"

Jesse's heart started to beat faster. "No. No, Helen, it's me, Michael." He reached for her, though he knew he couldn't touch. "It's Michael, Helen. Father Enders isn't here."

Helen's eyes went unfocused, then turned up into Jesse's face. Her brows furrowed.

"All right. Just... anywhere, or—"

She stopped again, then nodded, moving back to the bed and settling on her knees at the foot of the bed. She folded her hands and bowed her head. Ben closed his eyes, feeling an ache in his chest.

"Jess," he whispered. "It's too late. Don't look."

Jesse didn't listen, getting on his knees by Helen. "It's Michael! Please, darling, listen to me. You're dead; this isn't real. You're—"

Her head suddenly separated from her neck, rolling onto the bed, her body frozen in place. Then, just as quickly as she'd flickered into place, she vanished. Jesse didn't move, staring at the place she'd been, his breath coming hard. How could someone just _do_ that? To someone they were supposed to love? And now she had to relive it over and over, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

Ben let out a shaky sigh, his eyes opening at the change in Jesse's breathing. He went over to Jesse's side, hands settling on his shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

"We tried," he whispered. "It's okay."

"Do you think she knew?" Jesse said quietly. "That he...he wanted her? That maybe she just never thought he would do something like that?"

"Dunno," Ben said, still squeezing his shoulders rhythmically. "Didn't look that far into the history. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. It was a different time, so likely he asked her and she said no."

Ruth would never do that. She _couldn't_. She practically worshipped him. _And Father Enders was a priest._ His breath shuddered out as he reached back and squeezed Ben's hand. "I'll find the ex tonight."

Ben squeezed his hand in return, holding it tight. "I know where her grave site is. We could go torch the bones. That would end it."

Nodding, Jesse got to his feet. He wrapped an arm around Ben's waist. "Y'know," he said, trying to force his voice to be light, "I think I prefer my date ideas over yours."

Ben laughed gently, pulling Jesse tightly against him and brushing his lips against his. "Or I could do it and meet you back upstairs? Either way."

He shook his head. "I have to be there. I need to help her."

Ben nodded. "Okay." Again he kissed him, nuzzling in close. "Afterwards we'll knock back a couple pills and have Claire chase us around the hotel room with feather dusters or something equally wacky."

Jesse smiled slightly. "Sounds good. Y'know we'll owe her a lot of babysitting time for all she has to look after us while she can't even take a drink."

"I'm sure we can make it up to her," Ben said, smirking. "Babysitting too, but other ways. C'mon." 

* * *

><p>Heat. So much heat, burning into him, and screams everywhere. Echoing through his head. He was trying to get there, trying to do something, but he couldn't move. <em>No no no no no NO!<em>

Ben was still coming down from the high off the ecstasy Jesse had came back with, a little delirious and _so tired_ from the dig. They hadn't dug up a grave in ages, and the ex totally took the edge off. But there was no shaking off the instinct, and when Ben heard Jesse moaning and felt the tossing in the bed, he was immediately awake.

"Wake up, baby..._C'mon_."

Claire was already hovering over Jesse with a hand on his cheek, trying to lull him out of an obviously disturbing dream. While having to babysit the two of them while they tripped had been amusing in its own right, she had been ready to sleep long before they tired out — but easily more alert.

"He never dreams," Ben said, his voice muddled, pushing up on his side and moving one hand to Jesse's shoulder. He nearly winced. He was _burning up_. "Jess, wake up. _Please._"

Jesse didn't react to him, his back arching. "No..." he breathed through his teeth. Suddenly his eyes snapped open. "_Ruth_."

"_Jesus_..." Tucking her hair back and gazing down at him, Claire wanted to feel relief, but instead something twisted sharp in her stomach. "What was that?"

His pupils were so dilated his eyes looked almost black, darting between them. "S-something's wrong. Something's bad."

Ben touched his forehead, but if it were possible, his forehead was hotter than his arm had been.

"You've got a fever. It was just a dream," Ben said quietly.

"No," Jesse sat up, struggling out of the sheets. "You weren't there. I have to go."

Claire tracked him with her eyes, "...go _where_? To Ruth?"

"Yes." He stumbled, grabbing his shirt from the floor, trying to find his pants. "She—they—fuck, there was screaming."

Ben's eyes went wide. He'd figured it out pretty quickly that Ruth and the other nephilim were tied to Jesse, to respond to his every word no matter the distance, but he'd never thought the connection went both ways. And he was burning. It was worrying.

"But they're not s'posed to be findeable," Ben said in a tight voice. "Like you. Right?"

"I don't know," Jesse said, hitching on his pants. "I just have to go."

Claire shared a look with Ben, then turned it back to Jesse with nothing but anxiety written across her expression. Ben swallowed hard.

"Come back safe," he said in the same tight voice.

Pulling on his shirt, Jesse met both their eyes in turn. He took a breath, at a loss, before saying, "Promise." And then he was gone.

The dull buzz of thoughts that always came when being near the base was gone. The sun was just rising over the horizon, lighting the sky, but it was pale in comparison to the raging fire and the thick, black smoke unfurling out from it. The base was burning. Jesse stood there, frozen, his heart dropping to his feet. It was a horror show, a nightmare. This couldn't be reality.

A sudden light flashed out from base, almost blinding even from the distance. A few moments later a whipping whirlwind raced over the landscape and toward him, blowing his hair back. There was a combined sensation of accomplishment, stacking up, but then it fizzled out into nothing.

[ _Master!_ ]

Jesse's head whipped around, searching. "Ruth!" he yelled, his voice cracking on the name.

He didn't hear her verbally respond, but the minds of five others reached out for him, brushing against his consciousness. Another light flashed, like lightning. He squinted at the source, trying to see something, anything.

[ _Ruth, what happened, what's going on?_ ]

[ _You have to run. We're under attack. They're looking for you_ ]

Her mental voice was loudest, but two others joined in underneath, heavy beats of anger, vengeance, and heartache.

[ _Dead dead dead dead all dead they're all dead_ ]

[ _kill them kill them kill them all_ ]

Jesse's breath shuddered in his chest. [ _Who's they? Where are you? I can help!_ ]

All of their minds answered as one: [ _Angels._ ]

Terror tore through him and he stumbled back, heading for the woods. He was too out in the open. [ _Please, I can stop them, where are you?_ ]

[ _Protect him—_ ]

[ _—Save him keep him safe save him—_ ]

[ _—Die for him—_ ]

All the thoughts went silent and another light flashed. All of them had been from near the base. [ _Ruth?_ ] Jesse stared at the flames, utterly helpless. [ _RUTH!_ ]

[ _You have to run run run run RUN MASTER THEY'RE LOOKING FOR YOU RUN_ ]

A sudden collective throb of outrage and pain hit him, followed by the loss of one undercurrent beat. Jesse nearly fell to his knees. It suddenly struck him why Ruth hadn't come to him. She couldn't. The angels were stopping her; the angels were _hurting_ her. He clenched his fists, everything inside him focusing on them, before he blinked, and the nightmare became worse. The first thing he saw was the bodies strewn across the courtyard. Everywhere. Many of them so, so small.

And there Ruth stood, four Nephilim with her, their blades flashing with firelight from the buildings that fenced them in. Circling them all were the angels, something like 50 in number, their long shadows stretching towards him. One Nephilim girl turned her eyes to him, Hannah, and her face lit up with the briefest moment of happiness. Then an angel caught her at the base of her hair, yanked her head back, and slit her throat. Another grabbed her at the forehead, and her body burst into flames.

Horror, anguish, fury. They were ridiculous, empty words compared to the feelings that tore through him at the sight. It was as though he'd been the one set aflame, from the inside out. Power rushed through him, surged in him, larger and hotter than ever before.

"_ANGELS, FREEZE!_"

Every single angel froze in place, mid-motion, and for a moment every Nephilim still standing was stunned still as well. Ruth's chest rose and fell rapidly, and she quickly went to Caleb's side, pressing her hand against the bleeding mark on his arm. Jesse didn't notice, his eyes fixed on the angels he'd seen take down Hannah.

"Kill them all," he growled, stepping forward. He yanked the blade from the angel's hand, meeting him — it — eye-to-eye before plunging the blade through its very center. The strange lightning from before erupted from the angel but Jesse was already moving on, slicing down the one who had made Hannah burn.

Pheobe, Caleb, Silas, and Ruth moved together, like a pride, the blades glinting as they began to take the angels down one by one. The buildings were crumbling, and their eyes were very nearly blinded, but in no time all that was left around them was the dead. Every angel was marked by the scorched shapes of their wings on the ground where they landed. Jesse strode over to Ruth, his thoughts narrowed to a fine point.

"Is there anyone else left? In the house or barracks?"

"No," she said, quick and quietly. Her pupils were almost pinpricks, the irises strange and over-blue against the red-tinged whiteness. A deep, endless sorrow swirled around the survivors, who were huddled together in attempts to draw comfort from the nearness.

Jesse had already known the answer. He had known every one of those sparks, and he felt their absence as keenly as he'd felt their presence. _Not now, can't now._ "Take my hands. We're going someplace safe."

Their fingers lacing together in one long chain, the Nephilim formed a circle with him as their final link. Ruth held on to his hand so tight her grip went white. Silas was just as firm, though he kept his head tucked against his chin. Except for Ruth, all of them openly cried. Jesse tried to close it all off, focusing instead on their destination before blinking out of sight.

The sun had risen over the ocean in front of Belial's beach house, though the light was still pink. It was quiet and gentle, and everything the scene they just left wasn't. Somehow that made it harder. Jesse swallowed a lump in his throat. Unable to bear it any longer, he pulled Ruth into a tight hug. She hugged him just as fiercely, but the sensation of the eyes of the others all but burned into them, and she quickly pulled back.

"What should we do?" she asked in the same quiet voice, made much louder now in the new silence surroundings.

"Sit down," he said quietly as he went to Caleb, taking him in his arms. Then Phoebe, then Silas, each hug nearly rib-crushing. "Breathe. Tell me what happened. I'll figure it out."

"They came all at once," Silas whispered, his voice choked as he shuddered, pulling his legs against his chest. The sand swept up around his body. "Swept through each of the barracks and demanded to know where you were."

Jesse reached out, giving his arm a squeeze but waiting for the silence to fill.

"They rounded us up when we wouldn't say." Phoebe's voice was so much quieter than usual. "Except they left the youngest in their rooms. Then they set the buildings on fire."

"Nearly two-thirds of us," Silas croaked, tears streaking down his face. Ruth stayed silent, letting the others talk, but there was a visible tremble in her frame.

"We _fought_," Phoebe snarled, more like herself, "but there were so many. Each one we took down, they took out two, three."

"Until you came," Caleb whispered.

"I should have been there sooner," Jesse said, his voice a croak.

The others fell silent instantly, their thoughts a swirling mess, but Ruth quickly broke it.

"We wouldn't let them find you," she said. "They kept asking it over and over, but nobody would answer. They wouldn't."

"We won't betray you," Silas said, his voice fierce in spite of his tears. "Never. We'll gladly die."

"_You shouldn't have to_," Jesse said, his expression dark. His jaw worked before he spoke again. "Stay here an hour or so. I'll be right back. We're going to make this right. Or at least as right as we can."

"What if you don't come back?"

They had all been thinking it, but it had been more of a fear than anything else, deep below on a baser level. It had been their second — Ruth — who spoke the words. Ruth, who had been the only one among them who felt real doubt.

"I will," he practically snarled. "There is nothing in this world or the next that can fucking stop me."

The others only had eyes for Jesse, and so did Ruth, who nodded and remained where she sat, shaking.

[ _An hour. And then we'll run. We won't stop running until you find us again._ ]

[ _I will always find you._ ] He met her eyes. [ _I promise._ ] A deep part of him wanted to hug them all again, but he would be back, soon, and shouldn't waste time. With a nod to all of them, he vanished. 

* * *

><p>Half an hour into waiting for Jesse to come back, Claire had taken to systematically packing their gear. It was obvious they weren't going back to sleep, and pacing lasted all of five minutes before something else needed to occupy her head. Talking with Ben about it seemed redundant at this point: they both knew what the other was thinking. None of it would be settled until Jesse returned.<p>

But in the meantime, Claire had gotten dressed and was folding the clean laundry into her bag when words just jumped from her mouth.

"It's bad..."

"How bad?" Ben asked, his voice no less concerned than it had been before Jesse left. He had already finished Jesse's bag and was partway through his, trying not to concentrate on how bad his hands were shaking. Claire's jaw was tight, but she shook her head.

"_Bad_. That's all I know."

Between the span of two breaths, Jesse was suddenly standing in the room. He smelled like smoke and there was a splatter of blood across his chest. And an angel's blade in his hand. Ben visibly startled backwards, reaching for where his gun was typically holstered but finding it missing. Claire had gone stiff, staring at Jesse, mouth agape.

"What the hell!"

Jesse looked back at Ben. His expression was strained but forced into hard edges. He tossed the blade on the bed and it left a smear of red. "I've got something you can hunt now."

Claire felt like the bottom of her stomach was about to drop out. Any second; whatever it was, it'd come _any second_. She was tensing, as if preparing to get hit, staring at the sword on the bed.

Ben's eyes immediately looked at the blood, then at Jesse. He was over to him in the span of two steps, hands lifting his shirt, looking for some kind of injury. Jesse jerked slightly at the touch before he realized what it was.

"It's not mine. It...there were angels and they..." Pressure built in his chest, to the point of pain, so he pushed the thoughts back. "Ruth and Silas and Phoebe and Caleb are going to come stay with us. It's the only way they'll be safe."

"Wait, _who_?" Claire was on her feet suddenly. Her hand twisted in a tee shirt she'd forgotten about. "The Nephs. Staying with _us_..."

"How, exactly?" Ben added. "There isn't enough room in the GTO, let alone in the hotel rooms we typically choose.

Jesse's expression tightened and he took a sharp breath. His hands were visibly shaking. "They-they just need to come tonight, and then we'll figure it out. Get a house somewhere. I know you wanted to stay at your dad's, but I don't think—"

"_Jesse_—" Claire started, her brows pushed down in the middle. "What. Happened."

"I can't." His voice broke and he winched his eyes shut, trying to fight the roar in his head. "Later. Please. They need me now."

Ben chewed his lip viciously, seeing the anguish in Jesse's face. He could understand Claire's concerns, and felt just as intensely, but it was obvious that Jesse wouldn't be rational until everything he needed was right in front of him.

"We'd already packed up to go," he said slowly. "But okay."

Claire shot him a look of disbelief.

A seed of relief nestled in Jesse's chest, and he clung to that desperately as he opened his eyes. "Thank you. I'll go get them. They'll sleep on the floor; they won't mind."

"And what, exactly is going to keep anything from following them?" Claire was obviously holding back, even though her extreme disapproval of this plan was evident in her face. "_Four_ nephilim, _here_... might as well have a neon sign on our window."

Jesse's eyes met hers, heavy and watery. "I'll stop them. Angels can't find them if they're with me. They can't find me, like they can't find you."

The anguish in his eyes triggered a breed of her own, and in her current state of mind, it felt like a betrayal. She didn't say anything, only rolled her lips to fight the burn in her eyes. The bottom finally fell out of her stomach. Ben came up next to her and slid his arm around her, holding her tight.

"Baby," he said quietly. "Like you said before. It was bad. It _is_ bad. Ruth's helped us so many times, the least we could do is given them a few hours.

Claire continued to stare at Jesse for a few more moments, trying to force Ben's logic down her own throat. But it just wouldn't settle. It felt _wrong_.

"This is a bad idea," she finally croaked, barely above a whisper. Ben turned her face toward his, looking her in the eyes seriously before brushing his lips against hers.

"I'll keep you safe. No matter what. I promise."

"From what?" Jesse said, heat in his words as he stared at them. "Ruth has done nothing but help us; she's not dangerous! None of them are!"

"_Don't_ say that to me," Claire snapped through a breath. "I'm _aware_ of what Ruth has done, and their 'situation' is 'different', but this has _disaster_ written all over it."

He heard the words but they couldn't be real. There was nothing else he could do, so Claire couldn't say no. "I don't care what you think, I'm bringing them here," he said, his voice hard and quiet.

"_Jesse!_" Ben barked.

"It's the only way!" Jesse yelled at him. "I have to keep everyone safe! So fucking _deal with it!_"

"That is not how we run this," Ben argued, his arm dropping away from Claire. "We don't _force._ We _talk_. We figure shit out _together._ Claire is _pregnant,_ and if she doesn't feel safe, then that's a _problem._"

"They're alone and scared and if I'm not there when the angels—" The thought put too many images in his head, too many little bodies. His expression crumpled and he turned away, desperately trying to find some form of control.

"If you need to be with them right now, then go," Ben said, his voice quieter but still firm. "We'll stay in New Orleans for a few more days." Claire forced herself to breathe instead of speak. She didn't want Jesse to go; entertaining the idea was the same as thinking about harboring the four oldest — like she was watching him walk into oncoming traffic. Ben could hear Claire starting to hyperventilate and once again put an arm around her, but he kept his eyes on Jesse.

"But we want you to check in. Don't go out with a death wish, chasing down angels. Not in your current state. Promise us."

"W-what if they come after _you_?" He gulped down air. "I can't leave you."

"Well we can't have everything!" he snapped, switching his gaze back and forth between the two of them. "Something's gotta give, okay? We can last for twenty-four hours. Check in then."

"The only thing that can find us is you," Claire added, strained, but softer than before. Clearly, she wasn't thrilled with any part of it, but her back was against the wall.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Jesse held his breath until it exploded from him. They just wanted him to go. So he would go. He didn't look at Ben as he went to grab the blade again. The lack of any response put a rock in his gut, and before he had the chance to slip away, Ben grabbed Jesse by the arm, twirled him around, and kissed him hard. Jesse's knees almost gave out, and he gripped Ben's shoulders so tight they'd bruise. He collapsed against him completely, pulling from his mouth as a sob shook his body.

"Th-they died for me; they died _because of me_!" he moaned, feeling darkness close in on him. Claire, who was stuck between bad memories and worse feelings, sank heavily down to the corner of the bed.

Ben held him up, feeling his own body sag with the weight, but he embraced him tightly and rested his temple against Jesse's.

"I know, I know," he murmured. "It hurts. It's gonna hurt. Everything dies, Jess, and that doesn't make it any easier, but they died for what they believed in. They protected you. They _loved_ you."

Jesse shook his head. They'd been just children; they didn't have any choice but to believe in him. And he'd left them there to die. He tried desperately to stop crying. He had to go. They needed him.

"We love you, too. Don't forget that. Come back to us, okay? And be safe." He turned his eyes to his wife. "Claire."

She pulled in a staggered breath that would have been a sob if she'd given it any rein. While Ben's eyes were on her, her eyes were on Jesse. The turmoil on his face was the only thing weighted enough to cut through everything else. It was too much.

Claire stiffly drew herself off the bed and took Jesse's face in her hands. She kissed him shakily, and pulled him in with arms around his shoulders, whispering against his ear.

"_Do what you have to do._"

Gratitude swam through him, knowing that she wouldn't hate him for it. He buried his face in her neck, allowing himself a minute to just release everything. But he couldn't stay long.

"They're waiting for me," he croaked as he pulled back. "I don't know where we're going to go."

"We'll be here when you get back," Ben told him, repeating the same words he'd told Jesse earlier that week.

"You remember the wards I showed you," Claire added, still trying to breathe.

Jesse felt his cheeks burn in shame. "Not well enough. I wasn't paying attention." Something twisted hard in Claire's stomach, but she bit it back as well as she could.

"It's alright," she uttered. "I'll send them to your phone."

He nodded, growing quiet as he pulled back. Then he finally picked up the sword. "I'll try to get them situated soon. They... they won't want me to leave again."

"We'll figure something out," Ben said. He found Claire's hand, holding on tightly as she squeezed back, trying to keep his own cool. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Jesse was forced to choose. "You're wasting time. Go, before we change our minds."

Jesse hesitated, afraid the words might jinx it, but he couldn't go without saying them. "I love you," he blurted, disappearing before they could answer.


	6. Deleted Scene: You Can Leave Your Hat On

The minute they were through the doors, Ben started stripping, trying to kiss them both at once and doing a horrible job at it. He just needed to touch, to feel, and he was so turned on from all the craziness on the street that he could barely keep it together. Jesse grabbed his hands where they struggled fruitlessly with his pants.

"Easy, easy," he said with a breath of a laugh, taking care of the pants himself, cupping Ben over his boxers. "We got time." Claire chuckled from where she was making sure the door was good and locked. Ben's breath hissed out of him and he pressed in harder against Jesse's touch.

"Sorry," he rasped. "Just... want you both so bad."

With a smile, Jesse pressed a firm kiss to his mouth before pulling back, strolling over to Claire. "No one said that was a bad thing." He took Claire at the hips, turning them both to face Ben as he kissed up her neck. His hands went down, undoing her pants, one hand slipping in between her legs while the other came up to palm her breast. Claire practically melted into her breath, drawing her hand up from her side to curl in the back of Jesse's hair. The other beckoned to Ben with a crooked finger.

Ben shoved his boxers down his legs and stepped out of them, watching hungrily, fingers curling around the base of his cock and keeping the first few pumps slow. Watching them was _so hot_, but getting a come-hither was even hotter, and he shuffled over without looking away from them. Jesse met his gaze even as he pulled Claire's shirt over her head, careful not to knock her mask.

"She's so hot, mate," he breathed, unhooking Claire's bra. "Touch her. I want you to touch her."

Both the endearment and the suggestion made Ben's breath catch, but he didn't need to be told twice. His free hand slid up to cup her left breast, trailing his thumb in a circle around her nipple. She hummed a hot sound of approval, eyes closing for a moment of euphoria beneath the mask.

The heat behind and in front of her toed the line of overwhelming, and that was exactly how she needed it. Her grip in Jesse's hair twisted in time with how Ben's thumb moved, and she ground her hips back, arching deep. Jesse groaned in appreciation, his hand sliding around to slip down her panties.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he breathed, nipping at her earlobe. "Got you hot, didn't it? What you going to do to us, in front of all those people?" Though she tried to keep them open, her eyes closed again, her breath hitched through parted lips.

"Still wanna do'em," she purred, then met Ben's eyes. "What do you want me to do?"

"_Fuck,_" he gasped, his mind filling with a hundred possibilities. "You could probably _breathe_ on me right now and I'd come."

Licking his lips, Jesse grabbed Ben by his hair and pulled him in, kissing him ferociously. His tongue drove past Ben's lips, claiming his mouth utterly and completely. Ben let go of his cock, hands grabbing Jesse at the shoulders as his knees shook. His hand was replaced by Claire's, who ran her fingers between his legs and scraped a bite on his shoulder. Pulling back, Jesse's hand twisted tighter in his hair.

"How'd it feel, every eye on you as I licked your chest?" he growled, rutting up against Claire. "Did you want more? Want me to get on my knees and everyone watch as you fuck my mouth?"

It felt like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. He didn't have enough eyes to look at them both, and the strange thrill of listening to their voices coming from behind their masks was driving him into delirium.

"Claire," he gasped. "Please stop, I'm gonna—"

"Don't stop," Jesse said, eyes sharp on Ben. Claire borrowed a little from his trademark wicked grin, then curled a full grip around Ben's cock. With Jesse holding his head still and Claire working him mercilessly, Ben caved. His knees buckled and he cried out, eyes screwing shut. Jesse took his mouth again, kissing him deeply until he felt his body relax.

"That's my boy," he said, grinning as he pulled back. Ben felt his whole body twitching and a flush burn through his face. His first instinct had been shame, at not being able to hold out, but Jesse's reassurance obliterated it. He turned his gaze to Claire, glazed over and satisfied as he tried to find her eyes through the mask.

She lead him to her with an achingly gentle, slow kiss, which she embellished by rolling back against Jesse. She whispered against his lips. "We're still all yours."

"I love you," Ben breathed out, hands sliding up over her back. "So much. So much so much so much."

"You, too," Jesse said, his hips rocking up against Claire in a building rhythm.

Ben could feel every press Jesse made against Claire, both with the press of her hips into his and the press of Jesse's chest against his hands on her back. He turned to look over her shoulder at the other man, smirking, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth before he wet them both.

"Want her bad, don't you?" he murmured. "C'mon, Jess. Take her to bed. I wanna watch you both."

Letting her nails trace faint lines from his hips to his shoulder then jaw, Claire's thumb ran along Ben's bottom lip before kissing him, then adding a nip. "_Anything._"

Letting go of Ben, Jesse's hands hooked in Claire's pants, pulling them down as he knelt on the floor. He paused there long enough to give her ass a quick nip. He ran his hands up her body as he stood then gave her ass a smack. She peeled her top lip back with a hot hiss of approval. "As the man says," he said, grinning and nudging her towards the bed.

When she got there she turned at the last minute, and caught Jesse in a quick, but searing kiss. Ben followed a few steps behind, circling around to the side and settling on the bed to watch them. With the two of them so close, he was able to appreciate every curve and angle. They looked so amazing together, and with their masks still on, his imagination ran with it. Lore popped into his head, Pan and Selene, and his heart stuttered in appreciation.

"Fuck, you're both so gorgeous."

Jesse let the kiss linger a little longer before pulling back to shoot Ben a smile. Then he stripped off his own pants, breathing with relief as his straining cock was freed. He hooked his hands under Claire's ass, pushing her down onto the bed, but his face turned to Ben. "What do you want me to do to her?"

Ben wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch them both, and for a moment he worried. Just for a moment. Jesse had often voiced being concerned about things with Claire's budding pregnancy. He wanted Claire to feel like the goddess he saw her as.

"Tease her," he breathed. "Taste her. Make her beg for you."

Jesse nodded with a wide-toothed grin, hitching Claire up higher on the bed before taking her mouth. One hand went down to massage her breast. He didn't stay there long, though, releasing her mouth to start kissing down her neck. She inhaled and let it out as a cross between a sigh and a moan, tipping her head back into her hair. Ben inched closer, holding his head up with one arm, his other hand reaching up to stroke down the length of Jesse's back as he watched Claire's face.

"Can't say it enough," he whispered. "I could watch you both all day. So hot, so perfect."

Reaching out, Jesse tangled his fingers in Ben's hair as he worked his way past Claire's collarbone. He took his time with her breast, exploring every inch with his tongue before circling the nipple, grazing it with his teeth. Then he repeated with the other.

Already, she was breathing deeper, arching to the slick heat of his tongue, the coolness left in his wake drew a line of shivers down her spine. Claire gripped at his shoulders and sighed again, turning in her hair to catch Ben's eyes. He smiled in response, slow and lazy, moving his hand off of Jesse to take hers. He brought it to his lips, kissing the back, then turning it to kiss her palm and up to each finger.

"Tell him what you want, baby," he whispered. "Don't be quiet."

Smiling against her skin, Jesse didn't wait. He moved down, dipping a tongue into her navel before his lips reached the edge of her hair. He kissed around it, working his way to her inner thigh, his mask etching over her skin.

"_Yes_—" Claire whined as she lifted her hips from the bed, hitching her legs so her feet folded back by her hips. It deepened the arch in her back and strained her thighs, but in all the right places. "Don't stop 'til I scream."

Ben chuckled, leaning close to take her mouth in a deep kiss, his hand coming up to knead her right breast in the absences of Jesse's touch. Jesse leaned up away from her, just to watch them some. Then he plunged down, running his tongue along her clit before thrusting it inside her. Claire gasped, whining into Ben's mouth and lifting her hips just a little more off the bed. Without thinking, her hands drove through his hair, deepening the kiss between hitched breaths. He moaned in response, tweaking her nipple, then rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as he pressed his body closer to them. The noises they made had Jesse thrust into the bed before his tongue drove desperately deeper. He reached up, slipping a finger in alongside it while his thumb worked at her clit.

"Oh _god_—!" Claire moaned, her eyes screwed shut as the combined sensations assaulted her. She felt a tremble in her legs that made everything else sing. Her hips bobbed up to match the rhythm, and more of her voice wrapped around each deep, jagged breath. Ben watched her hungrily, his hand traveling across her chest to pluck and twist the second nipple. Then his eyes traveled lower, watching as Jesse rutted against the mattress. He could feel himself getting hard again, just from all the stimulus around him.

"Fuck, I wanna suck you off so bad right now," he said in the direction of Jesse's forehead. "Make her come, Jess."

Plunging a second finger in her, Jesse scissored them, seeking upward as his mouth came down to suck on her clit. Claire's blood lit on fire, all coiling hard in the deepest center of her. Each hard inhale twisted around a piece of her voice. The strain was _perfect_, heating her skin to a sheen as she panted and whimpered, until it finally spilled over. She came with a short cry toward the headboard, hands coiled in the bedding at her hips.

Jesse lapped at her as he felt her surge, riding the snap of her hips until it had calmed. Then he was up on his hands and knees, hovering over them with a hungry look. "Gimme something to fuck now before I explode."

Ben would have gladly thrown himself at Jesse's mercy, but he was almost enjoying watching a little too much. His eyes turned to Claire, giving her the option of answering first. Neither of them had to wait long; still panting, Claire rolled up from the bed, catching Jesse's lips with an almost feral nip before turning, fitting herself under him on all fours as well — then she set her sights on Ben.

"Get up here," she purred with a bit of a growl, pointing to the bed beneath her. Ben nearly scrambled to move quickly and fill the void she indicated. By that point he was achingly hard, and just the brief press of skin contact made him moan in need.

His fingers still slick, Jesse pressed at her hole. He could hold back the mad desire, though, thrusting into her welcoming pussy and rocking twice before pulling out for Ben.

"Holy _shit_," Ben moaned, taking his turn and thrusting up hard, his hips snapping against her skin before he pulled out. This was going to destroy him, he already knew it, but he'd never been more turned on. Claire let loose a breath she'd been holding, wrapped around a desperate sound in her voice. That was the biggest _tease_ in her life, and it couldn't have been any better. She tossed her hair from where it fell and twitched over her mask (though most of it went right back), reaching behind her to dig fingers and nails into one of Jesse's thighs, making him cry out.

"Fuck, I want you so bad," he whined, plunging another finger in, desperate to stretch her wide. He couldn't deny Ben's offer, though, thrusting inside her again as he worked. She pushed back against his fingers, her head rolling back in another hungry moan, fanning more hair across the dip of her spine. She felt _everything_ so keenly, every nerve ending alight and buzzing into a frenzy.

"Keep going, Jess," Ben said hoarsely, the friction of her body thrusting against his enough to keep him satisfied for the time being. "You're closer. She wants it. I told you to keep going until she begs."

That only got Jesse to pull out, withdrawing his hand at the same time to position himself at her ass. "She'll beg even more when we're both fucking her raw, won't you, Claire?" Biting her shoulder, he started pressing inside her.

"—_God yes!_" she squeezed out on a breath. Under the pristine white satin and lace mask, her eyes rolled shut; her bottom lip kiss-swollen and trembling with every delicious sensation. Ben craned up to kiss her, but with every one of Jesse's thrusts they were jarred apart, so he moved his mouth lower, tasting the salt of sweat on her skin.

Panting, Jesse's eyes sought out Ben's. Even through the mask, they had the same piercing effect, and Ben found himself immediately drawn to his gaze.

"Fuck her. I wanna feel you inside her while I take her."

Ben nodded dumbly, shifting up a little more, his hands taking Claire's hips and realigning her before pressing in deep again. They were nearly face to face, and he looked up into hers, flushed and desperate with his mouth hanging open. There was no denying the nervousness in his eyes.

"If it's too much with us, just say it," he whispered. "I don't wanna—"

"Ben—" Claire started between labored breaths, her moan shaped into his name. "Ben, _please_..."

She didn't even need to finish. He slid into her just as deep as before, canting into the first thrust so he pressed very deliberately against her clit. His mouth found hers in a desperate kiss, one hand lifting up to her face, the mask bumping against his fingers. Grinning, Jesse kept up his rhythm as he brushed Claire's hair over her shoulder. Slowly he licked his way down her spine, pausing to scrape his teeth along her shoulder blade. The sensation burned hot and tightened in her belly, deepening the arch in her back.

"_Christ_," she keened, pulling in a shaky breath through the kiss. "Don't—don't stop...please don't stop."

Ben moved his arms to slide around her back, holding her against him firmly so she didn't jolt with the combined effort of his and Jesse's thrusts against her. The force behind his thrusts doubled, his teeth nipping along her shoulder. Hunching over them, Jesse grew more focused, the room spinning around, the three of them at its center.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmured in litany as the heat surged inside him. As he felt himself tumbling, he bit hard on Claire's shoulder, claiming her as he came. Ben's hands moved, shifting up to grab Jesse's hips instead, feeling the friction between and through Claire. He moaned desperately, feeling himself teetering on the brink. Claire was already there, and all it took to nudge her over the edge was the pinch of Jesse's teeth and the sound of Ben's raw voice. Giving breathy cries with each exhale, her body seized and shook all over.

"Oh god!" Ben cried out, bucking up hard when she felt him clench tight around her, his eyes nearly rolling back as it hit him like train. A strangled little noise tore out of him with every surge, until at last he collapsed fully backward against the mattress, muscles tingling with exertion.


	7. Episode 4: Reprieve

The instant Jesse disappeared for the second time, all Claire's efforts to remain together _crumbled_. The air sucked out of her lungs in a sob, leaving her lips open and trembling, hidden behind her hands when she pressed them to her face.

All she could concentrate on was phantom pain, both physical and emotional, all attached to everything she'd experienced since an angel planted visions of the future in her dreams, since she was carted across the country, strung up and flayed by wire and blades... ever since a demon caged her in her own mind and showed her exactly what Belial's plan was all about. She was shaking like a dead leaf in the wind. She wanted to collapse, or scream. She could feel Ben's arms circling around her, pulling her into his lap, cradling her as though she were a child.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered against her hair, rocking her, his hands stroking down the lengths of her arms. "He'll be okay."

_You and your angels did this to me._ Words from a dream: _Jesse's_ words throbbed through her head as an undercurrent to Ben's effort to pull her back down. Issac's soft, cold voice was in there, too, along with his young face. Freckled by her blood. Ruth's robotic gaze, triggered like a missile.

She shook harder, her eyes clenched shut as another gasp squeaked into her palm.

"—doesn't understand. He doesn't. He _can't_. He wasn't _there_."

Ben did his best to console her, but her words were cryptic and she was shaking _so_ hard. He didn't know what to do.

"Jess would never put us in danger," he attempted, kissing her temple. "He loves us. We mean everything to him."

It was a few moments of hard breaths and sobs. Claire was grappling with herself for control; Ben's words helped, gave her enough edge to pull it back and actually _think_, but the images were still there.

"It's not Jesse I'm worried about," she finally managed to croak. Ben turned her gently so that she laid across his lap rather than be circled around it, He tilted her face up, then wiped the tears out from beneath her eyes with his thumbs.

"Talk to me. Whatever it is, I'm here. I'll make it better."

It took a while, but through sobs she'd been holding back for what felt like her entire life, Claire went over all the details of Amitiel's manipulation: of a country laid in waste by demons and nephilim soldiers, Jesse's rise to power, Ben's kidnapping, and the murder of a daughter. She told him about the holding cell in an Oregon hotel basement and the people penned there, used to create the very beings Jesse was obsessed with helping, and of Isaac - the teenager without a soul. How she'd gone into the lion's den on orders from Heaven. How she was supposed to have been the homing device that lead the angels to destroy it.

And now, dots were being connected again.

She'd calmed, but only marginally, and if anything her quiet tears were more unsettling than the sobs had been. He'd listened in silence as she recounted, but everything she said was _horrifying._ It was no wonder she had been so distraught upon waking, back at Izzy's house, and why she'd been so disconnected from Jesse . He wasn't sure he could even reach deep enough into her and pull it out.

"Claire," he murmured, brushing her hair out of her face and stroking her cheek. "It isn't the same. A whole bunch of the details have changed. We can still get around it."

"If I knew what to do, I'd be _doing it_," she replied, exasperatedly running her hand through her hair. His hand moved away from her face, her exasperation reflecting in his eyes for a moment. Just like before, when the two of them had argued over whether to bring the nephilim to them or let Jesse go, he didn't know what to say or do to keep them all satisfied. So this time, rather than struggle and fail, he went silent. Claire just went on.

"Ever since that _goddamned dream_, I've done everything I can to keep that future from happening, but it keeps ...it keeps _showing up_! I _don't know_ what to do anymore." She grabbed one of his hands, giving a shaky breath as she brought it back to her face - a comfort she reached for without even thinking. "The angels are going to find them, and it's going to crush Jesse - and he's going to look for someone to blame."

Ben listened silently, his thumb trailing against the apple of her cheek subconsciously after she finished. Her last words were ominous. But there was one thing he knew he could argue: dreams. He'd had one himself, featuring the angel Claire spoke of.

"He gave you a dream, love," he said softly. "Not a prophecy. The future can change. We got Belial. And if what Jesse says is true, most of the nephilim are gone." For the first time in a lot of the conversation, Claire sought out Ben's eyes with a clarity that had been much more internal until that point. She sat up and twisted to face him, her brows knitted up in the middle.

"Ben—_this_ wasn't a dream _or_ prophecy," she said, purposefully holding out both wrists, and the patch of vacant lowered skin that once bore a tattoo. "This was _one_ of them. Those four are the strongest, and I know how they were raised. I know what they're capable of..."

Ben frowned, his eyes naturally gravitating to her wrists. It was hard not to, and just looking at them made his blood boil. Angels and demons, still playing them all as though they were pawns in a game.

"Then we ask him," he said. "What his plans are. What he's trying to do."

Claire's gaze softened, but was no less desperate. She rolled her lips and inhaled deep, closing her eyes to rub the salt and burn from her lashes.

"He thinks he can integrate them, like _he_ was... His heart is right, but he doesn't understand," she repeated the last words again, from her anguished mumbling before. "They weren't brought up like that. He doesn't see it and I have no idea how to get him to without breaking his heart."

Ben's eyes dropped, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach.

"I didn't mean we ask Jesse," he said quietly.

Falling silent, Claire looked at him - looked _into_ him, trying to follow the line of reasoning. It wasn't difficult to see when she got there; her eyes widened and went hard.

"_No_, Ben..."

He swallowed, eyes closing and mind racing. "If we do it right. We can trap him, we can get away. Hell, we can banish him the moment he's done his job. You know the sigils—"

"His plan is to destroy everything Belial created - and that includes _Jesse_," Claire started, going tense at the idea. "By any means necessary. He'll use _anything_—"

"Then we have to get him," Ben interrupted, jaw going tight. "We gotta lure him down, get him in a corner, and run him through."

The words made Claire fall quiet, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line across her face before all of it loosened with a long sigh. Her eyes dropped from him, but she leaned in close, sniffing against his shoulder. One arm draped behind him, lightly twisted in his shirt.

She hadn't argued. Ben could tell she didn't like it, but she hadn't argued, and that gave him a little hope.

"He's the one running the campaign," Ben continued on in a low murmur, wrapping his arms around her. "Cut off the head of a snake, and the body dies. We just gotta hope that's enough to satisfy whatever's building up in Jess."

The words he chose sent a hard shudder through Claire that she couldn't suppress or hide; she felt like Death had just breathed on her neck, and in that second, was positive she was about to get sick. She wavered against him, twisting her hand in his shirt.

"_No_," she finally pushed, her voice wrapped with wire. She didn't necessarily say it to him, but he tensed anyway.

"No?" he asked, afraid to pull back and look at her. She did it for him, meeting his eyes with a terrified expression, her face had gone pale.

"That was in the dream..." she murmured shakily. "That—that _phrase_..."

He took a breath, then slowly let it out. "I'm sorry," he said, finding her hands and holding them both, his thumb gliding over her ring. "But it's still true. If Jess goes after Heaven, they won't stop." He borrowed something from his own dream encounter with Amitiel, feeling his blood go cold. "Everything will burn."

Claire watched him for a long time, fighting the sick feeling in her stomach. Her hands were still shaky, and she didn't know if it was the stress or emotional fatigue. Finally, a long sigh sagged her shoulders, and she leaned back into him, burying her face in his neck. His arms wrapped around her again, glad at least that she was no longer crying.

"We're gonna need help."

He nodded in response. "I'll call Dean. He's the only person I know who's dealt extensively with angels. He'll know what we need to do." 

* * *

><p>Silas was the last of the three to fall asleep, Jesse rubbing his back until the tears finally eased away. Even looking at them made his chest feel heavy. Smoothing a blanket over each of them, he stood, walking across the sand towards Ruth. It didn't matter that the beach was dark; he always knew exactly where she was.<p>

She sat in the sand with her back toward the building, arms around her knees, staring out at the water. From the moment Jesse first arrived, it was clear something was wrong. She remained almost completely closed off to him, aside from very base emotional responses through their connection. Most of what she felt was anger. The others were upset, lost, heartbroken, but Ruth was just angry. Jesse sat next to her, looking over a moment before sliding an arm around her shoulders. She tensed up, but didn't pull away. Another little flicker of anger flashed in the air between them. He frowned, his insides twisting.

"What's wrong?"

"My brothers and sisters were massacred," she said dully. "But aside from that?"

He hugged her tighter. "Ruth I'm...I'm so sorry," he said, his voice rough.

"You're not sorry," she said in the same voice. "You feel sympathy, but you didn't know them. You didn't watch them being born and growing up. You have no idea what it's like."

His breath hitched, but he nodded. "You're right. It hurts so badly for me, I can't imagine what you're going through."

Her jaw clenched and released, and he could feel a pulse of intense emotion — too diverse to pull the pieces apart — before it stopped short. It was like someone slammed a door in his face, refusing to let him in.

"You know..." she said, shaking her head before turning her eyes down at her feet. "You go on telling me that we need to learn to adapt to the world, you tell me what I need to train them, to show them, and the big huge thing you keep repeating over and over is that we need to learn not to want to keep you happy. But then," she let out a wet sound, bringing one hand up to press the heel into each eye. "You keep showing up, once a week, for these little check-ins, and it's like living each day waiting for the next fix. If you'd been here, from day one, to _help_ train us, this wouldn't have happened."

It was like a bullet being slowly forced through his chest. He pulled his arm away, staring at her and trying to breathe. "I never... I did everything I could do. I swear. I was trying to help."

She turned her face to look at him, eyes red-rimmed and swimming. "No you didn't. You didn't want us. You didn't wanna deal with us. You've been just as selfish as you've always been, and now they're all dead, and you don't even care. You're _glad_. Say it. _Say you're glad._"

"I'm not!" he cried, voice hitching. "I could never be! What happened to them—" He broke off, twisting his hands in his hair. "Oh god."

"They loved you. That's all they knew, all they've ever known. They died for you, to keep you alive, to keep you safe. Would you have died to keep _them_ safe?" she shot back, accusation making the words hard.

He gaped, struggling for words. "I...I would have _saved_ them."

She shook her head, turned her eyes away from him. "And then left. Because again, we mean _nothing_ to you. You may have never wanted us, but we were still here. A few of them didn't even fight, and do you know why? Because they thought you didn't want them to fight or use their powers."

The images flashed in his head, so clear, so real. Children, just standing there, trying so hard to to make him proud as they were cut down. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," he sobbed, back curling, his hands pulling hard.

For the briefest moment, he could feel her heart reaching for him. But she didn't. It was so unlike every encounter they'd ever had.

"And you go on about not trusting me," she said. "You didn't know what we needed. You just wanted us to fix ourselves and go out into the world, leaving you alone. You don't care."

He couldn't answer, his body convulsing with crying. It'd be easier, maybe, if she weren't a little right. He hadn't wanted them, and it was so hard, trying to help them, trying to figure out what to do. "I didn't want this, I didn't want this."

"Then kill us," she said, her voice flat. "End it. Get on with your life. We won't even struggle."

Oregon. The boy who obediently sliced open his gut, the children who slaughtered the place and then willingly accepted their end at his hands. He knew all too well how easily they would bow to him. He shook his head desperately in his arms. "Can't, never," he rasped.

She stared at him, hands in her lap, still a closed door to him.

"This isn't something that'll be okay by sunrise," she said quietly. "You realize that. We're not just puppies you can dump in a box and abandon. We can't help the way we were born to be. We're more than just your soldiers: we're your family."

The word twisted his heart in knots and he got to his knees, grabbing her hand. He could feel her heart leap, but her face remained stony. "Ruth, please. I'll do anything. Tell me what to do to help, please."

"That's not my job," she told him. "You have to be responsible. You have to figure it out for yourself. I'm your second."

His back folded over, pressing her hand to his forehead. "Everything I do is wrong. People get hurt, people die, how can I keep telling people what to do when it gets them killed?"

Her eyes closed, and she took a slow breath. Then he felt the door crack open. She had so much sorrow, even the little bit of it was crippling. But there was still so much love inside her, it quickly overshadowed all that sorrow. Her hand stroked down to his face, her thumb tracing along the apple of his cheek.

"Try harder," she said gently.

He threw his arms around her, crying quietly against her neck, just relieved to feel her again. "We'll get them. We'll kill every fucking angel there is."

There was a little flicker of fear, undercutting everything else, but her arms circled around him, one hand settling against the back of his neck while the other stroked his back.

"Not tonight," she whispered. "Tonight I just want solace."

[ _Wish I knew where they were that they could feel me and I could feel them and that I knew they were okay no heaven for us no heaven or hell and it hurts so much_ ]

He brought a hand up, cupping the back of her head and holding her close. "Me, too. So much."

She took a shuddering breath. The next few breaths shook as she struggled not to break down.

"Please," she said in a small, fragile voice. "How do I make it stop hurting? Please... make it go away. Please, Jess."

His whole throat seemed to close. He shifted, wrapping an arm around her and rocking. "I wish I could, sweetheart. I really wish I could."

"Teach me. Tell me what to do. How do people deal with this?" she begged, starting to hyperventilate.

"Sh, sh," he soothed, smoothing her hair. "Breathe. Deep, long breaths."

It wasn't an order but she obeyed, closing her eyes. The sensation of the rocking, paired with his voice and the way he touched her, eventually calmed her. Even after the tears dried, she refused to pull away from him. Something like need and desperation flickered on the outer edges of her energy signature, but she didn't act on it. In fact, fear briefly joined the mix. He gave her a squeeze.

"It's okay, I'm here. Nothing will get you. I promise."

[ _For now for now for now for now for now don't ruin it please don't love—_ ]

The door clicked shut again.

"I'm not scared of angels," she whispered. "Let them come, for all I care."

An intense, unexpected pride swelled in him and he kissed her forehead. "You're amazing. And strong. You don't need me at all."

Her body tensed. "Please don't..." she said in a tight voice. "Don't... don't say that. And don't... I'm trying so hard."

He didn't know what she meant, but he nodded. "Okay, okay. I won't say anything, I promise."

She let out another shuddering breath, the door to her emotions creaking open, and he was hit with that same need and desperation, amped.

"You can hold me," she said quietly. "But don't kiss me. Please."

[ _I can't have what I want I can't I can't but I want want want so much so much Jess please please please—_ ]

He closed his eyes, trying to parse her emotions from his as they swirled around him. "I won't, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. If you want me to go, I'll go."

Her arms tightened around him. "No," came her rushed answer. "Don't— don't leave. I don't want you to leave. Stay with me."

"I'm here, I'm here," he reassured quickly. "I stay if you want me to stay, go if you want me to go. It's all up to you."

"Sleep next to me?" she asked, sounding so much like her heart would break if he said no.

"Of course," he said quietly. "We should sleep. We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

She nodded, and her reluctance was palpable as she pulled out of his embrace and pushed up to standing. Her hand reached down for him and he took it, though he pushed himself up. He didn't let go of her hand as they walked back in silence to the dark house. 

* * *

><p>Claire still needed time to recover from the breakdown, so he let her rest, taking the phone onto the balcony and sitting against the railing to watch her as he pulled Dean's number up in his phone list. He chewed his lip viciously as he brought the phone up to his ear, his free hand going up to rake through his hair. It picked up after one ring.<p>

"Jesus, kid, you ever sleep?" Dean said, a little grogginess still in his voice. Ben cracked the smallest of smile, though he didn't feel it.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," he muttered. "Sorry if I woke you. I wouldda called my buddy Luke, but I don't think he knows what I need to know."

"Naw, you didn't wake me. Old man body gets up at six AM, rain or shine. What you looking for?"

Ben took a breath, then let it out. "How do you kill angels?"

There was a long silence. "Well that's a cheery topic. Why do you need to know?"

"We've been having trouble for a bit now, actually," Ben said, his voice pointed at his feet. "He mucked around in Claire's head, gave her a sneak preview at the good stuff to light a fire under her about that demon we torched in Clifton. Me too, actually. Wanted to take me out for a ride." He closed his eyes. "He killed all those kids we rescued. They had ties to Jesse."

An even longer silence followed before Dean spoke, almost at a growl. "Don't you ever say yes to them. Those sonsabitches won't treat you any different than a demon."

Ben swallowed hard, eyes opening up unfocused. Amitiel had made a very convincing argument. He still worried that the angel was right, but he was much more worried about Jesse taking them on.

"So how do I kill him? What do I need to do?"

"Kid, it's nothing near easy. More like you'll be able to exorcise or trap them, or repel them. Only sure thing I know that kills them is their own blades, but good luck getting your hands on one of those."

"Ain't gonna help. Jesse's..." Ben ran a hand over his face, his voice a little shaky. "I've never seen him like this. He's _so_ angry. If he goes after them, there's no tellin' if he'll stop. He'll tear the world in half if I don't get this bastard."

"Has he done anything?" Dean asked, low and serious.

"No," Ben answered. He bit his lip, then added. "Not yet. Not that I know of. We wouldda noticed _something_ if he had. He promised he'd check in within twenty-four, but..." He swallowed hard. "I don't know. I'm scared."

"Where are you? I don't know where we'll get a blade, but we'll find a way. I'm gonna come help."

His heart stuttered in Ben's chest at the idea of Dean being there with them. Deep underneath the fear and paranoia, there was no denying how much he'd always dreamed of hunting at Dean's side. But was it safe?

"We'll come to you," he said. "Claire's—" his eyes lifted, looking in at his wife's sleeping form through the window. "She's not handling things well either. She's starting to think what the angel showed her is actually happening."

"You tell her angels don't know jack shit," Dean said, fire in his voice. "Me and Sammy been proving them wrong all our lives."

"Trust me, I've tried," Ben said quietly. "I think she believed it once, too, but that was before. I swear, Dean, it was like opening up an origin story comic." He shook his head and gave a weak laugh. "I'll call Jess and let him know we're heading to Sioux Falls."

"Alright. I'll try'n get the place presentable." A pause. "You're gonna make it through this, Ben. You'll keep it together."

Ben gave a nod, wishing he'd had the same amount of confidence his father had. "Seeya soon." 

* * *

><p>The drive from New Orleans to Souix Falls was going to take at least a day and a half. Having set out in early afternoon, that put Ben and Claire just on the inside of the Oklahoma border around one in the morning, when pulling over for the night finally became a priority they couldn't put off any longer. The ride was tense; it couldn't be avoided. With Jesse gone and everything playing itself through her mind without the option of a stop button, Claire thought the hours would tick by like years.<p>

Ben did his best to keep her mind on lighter things. Several impromptu trivia challenges and corny jokes pulled her out of the tendency to stare out the window. Eventually conversation rounded corners like pick-up lines they'd both heard and used, and one extended 'That's What She Said' war. It helped, but they both knew it was a band-aid on a broken leg.

Once they were checked in, Ben settled next to her on the bed, pulling her against him until they were flush and pressing his nose into the juncture of her neck. They were emotionally drained and physically exhausted, but he still wanted to be close to her. The bed felt too large without Jesse in it. Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders, closing her eyes and breathing him in. She could feel the strain in him as if it were a tangible tremble, but his strength as well - that was the sheltering comfort she needed.

"We should sleep," she said after a moment, but couldn't bring herself to move.

"Probably," he replied, his arms tightening around her. He honestly didn't want to separate from her, even to undress. Claire didn't seem to mind; she nestled in closer and sighed, hoping the breath would be a cleansing one. Her hand thoughtlessly went through his hair and his eyes immediately closed with a muted sound of pleasure.

"I could give you a back rub," he mumbled. Claire just shook her head with minimal effort, already starting to drift.

"M'good right here," she replied.

"Kay," he said, his voice already sounding muddied and far away.

The world slowly faded away into a warm blankness, the two of them at its center. Time became nothing, and so Claire had no idea how long it had been when she felt a hand slide on her neck. She barely stirred, slowly pulled from a dreamless sleep, with no sign of being startled. Jesse pressed a kiss to her lips before reaching over and squeezing Ben's shoulder.

Ben was a lot more of a hair-trigger when it came to being awoken, and his eyes immediately snapped open with an inhale.

"Whu—" he mumbled, turning his head in the direction of the touch, and seeing Jesse's face. In an instant, he was fully awake again.

"Jess," he whispered.

"Hi," he said with a smile that was just a shade less bright than usual. "I can't stay long."

Ben turned his head back toward Claire, kissing her forehead and giving her a little shake. "Wake up, baby, Jesse's here." She opened her eyes, still a bit glazed, but it didn't last long. On her next breath, she had her arm around Jesse's neck and shoulders. He laughed, crawling fully onto the bed, even though his shoes were still on.

"Glad you're happy to see me," he teased. Ben settled on the other side of him, hugging them both, holding on tightly.

"We were worried."

Jesse's stomach twisted, tears suddenly rushing to his eyes. He hugged Claire with one arm, the other wrapping back around Ben's waist. "It was fine. I got them settled. I said I'd only be an hour, though." Along the back of his shirt, Claire's hand tensed, just before the rest of her did. It was subtle, but unhidden.

"And then what," she asked, very quietly.

"And then I go back," he said, almost at a whisper. "They're trapped in that house without me, with only the symbols keeping them safe."

Ben pulled back, looking into Jesse's face, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "What are you saying?" he asked, anxiety coloring his voice.

Jesse closed his eyes. "I'll come by as often as I can. Probably no more than a couple hours a day, though. They need me more than you do."

"Are you _serious_?" Claire jumped in quickly, her look mixed confusion and a pained disbelief. "Jess, we need to take a step back and _look_ at what's going on here."

"I have to be there for them, I have to," he said quickly. "I want to be here more, but that's the problem. To be with you, I ignored my responsibility, and they paid the price, and that's _not going to happen again_."

Ben listened quietly to the exchange, feeling a jump in his stomach as a scowl settled on his lips. His immediate response was to call him out, to relate how his responsibilities as a hunter were equal but Jesse had demanded they give up hunting. It was that same thought-out response that kept him from speaking. He understood responsibility. He also understood what grief could do to a person; he'd seen it in his father.

"If he brought them here with us, he wouldn't have to go back," Ben said quietly.

Claire's look of extreme worry changed to something like shock, turned right at him. Ben met her eyes evenly.

"You know I'm right," he said. "Imagine what'll happen if they're allowed to wallow in it, Claire. They're kids with bombs inside them."

"I'm _well_ aware of that," she whispered back, feeling like her stomach was on the verge of imploding. She looked at Jesse, barely able to rein in the burn behind her eyes. Her tone was strained, but her effort to keep it on the rational side was obvious. "Listen, I _know_ all this was thrust on you without having anything to do with it in the first place, but you cannot forget what it was all done for. He _wanted you_ to take over them. That was his _plan_."

Jesse stared at her, his stomach clenching. "This is different. This isn't what he wanted. And what else am I supposed to do?" Claire shook her head, her brows knitted up in the middle.

"Whatever it is, you _can't_ lose sight of that big picture." _How far can you see past your own emotions?_

"He won't," Ben said, calmly. "Because we'll be there to keep him focused. Claire," he took a breath, let it out. "You have to make a choice: We either let him do what he needs to do, away from us; or we bring them closer." He wanted to say more, but he couldn't. Not with Jesse there. He was too afraid of Jesse's reaction.

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do?" Jesse said, pushing to sit up. "I'm protecting people; what's wrong with that?"

"_Nothing_ is wrong with protecting people," Claire pleaded, "But Jess—_you_ killed _angels_. How do you not see the repercussions of this?"

Jesse jerked back, sitting flush against the headboard. "_They killed my family!_ They fucking burned children alive, _children_, who weren't even trying to fight! Just to get to me! If I don't stop them, you might be next." His chest hitched with a breath. "It's that or I just go to them. I'll do that, if you—"

"Jess," Ben interrupted, hands on Jesse's knees, then on his shoulders. "I get it. I get that you're upset, and you have every right to be. We're not sayin' you were wrong, we're sayin' that angels aren't an easy target. You don't have an army anymore. Just leave it."

"They won't leave me!" Jesse rubbed his palms against his eyes, everything inside him starting to spin out of control. "They found me at ten and I had to leave my parents, they found me at thirteen and I had to leave my friends, they're trying to find me now and if I have to leave you— I'm done. I'll just hand myself over and they'll kill me 'cause I'll be in hell either way."

Claire felt like the air had completely left her lungs. The will to speak was there, but the ability (and the words) refused to cooperate, and she knew exactly why. She blinked, dropping tears in her lap, and continued to stare at him until something finally squeezed out of her mouth.

"What do you want to do."

He took a few deep breaths to calm the panic in his chest before saying, "I want to kill them all, so they'll never hurt anyone again."

Sharper this time, Claire felt like she'd just been sucker-punched, and she closed her eyes to pull in a breath. It was all she could do to keep herself on the right track, which was one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

"I meant about the Four," she rasped.

"Oh," he breathed. "I... I don't want you uncomfortable. But I have to stay with them. So either we stay separate and I see you a couple hours each day, or we stay together."

Ben looked at Claire, then at Jesse, seeing the stand-off between them. He didn't want Jesse out of his sight for a second. He loved Claire, wanted to keep her safe, but he was far too afraid of what Jesse would do without them to keep him grounded.

"Bring 'em along. You know the address," he said quietly.

Jesse's eyes flicked to him hopefully, but then back to Claire. "Only if you agree, too," he said quietly.

She had to fight every instinct screaming in her head and crawling beneath her skin, an effort that made Claire go very still, and very quiet, but eventually she met Jesse's eyes, and nodded. Jesse instantly leaned forward, taking her mouth in a grateful kiss, which she returned weakly. Ben just watched, knowing the stillness of her body as well as he knew his own. He took a breath and let it out, sliding a hand to rest in the small of her back.

"Let us get there first," Claire said, just barely over her breath. "For obvious reasons."

Jesse nodded, though his eyes studied her face. "I missed you. I'm sorry I had to go." Claire blinked more tears, but only her eyes wavered. Anything else, and she'd fall apart.

"I miss you, too."

Ben could already feel his heart starting to fracture. _He'll be back. He'll be back, he'll be back, he'll be back,_ he told himself.

He just hoped his voice didn't shake. "Go on, then. Tell the kids. We'll see you soon."

Cupping Ben's cheek, Jesse kissed him briefly before crawling out of the bed. "I'll see you soon. And thank you."

Ben nodded, flashing a weak smile he didn't feel, his arm winding around Claire and pulling her close again. With a final nod, Jesse vanished. All the air slipped out of him and Ben leaned against Claire, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know you hate this. I just... I don't know what else to do." Though Claire curled her arm around behind him, she continued to stare forward, unfocused, and quiet.

"You heard him," Ben said. "He wants to kill all the angels. All of them. And hell, let's be honest, you know he'll want to go after the demons next. He won't stop until he feels everyone's safe. We _have_ to keep him here, with us."

"I know," Claire whispered in near silent honesty. Her chest constricted and refused to let go, and every limb felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She pulled in a shaky breath and used the back of her hand to dry the water on her face. With the next breath, she squeezed Ben's knee, then got to her feet and disappeared into the bathroom.

Ben tracked her with his eyes, frowning, wondering for just a moment if he had been wrong to make the call. Jesse had asked them both, though. It was so much to handle, all of it. Lying back in bed, he turned slightly so he could continue to watch the door.

She didn't keep track of how long she was in there; enough to hold cold water on her face a few times and stare at herself in the mirror, trying to get the sick feeling to go away. But it wouldn't, and she knew why - it had nothing to do with morning sickness or a sensitive nose. Her bad-idea alarms were blaring so loud, it took everything she had to keep some kind of control.

When she slipped back out, she was certain there'd be no sleeping for her that night; she figured the same would be true for Ben, but he was already passed out on the bed. Another body sat next to him, his head turned away from her. The smell was familiar, though. Distinct, like sweet grass and sage. Claire froze, staring at the back of the dark head. She knew who it was without a second to reach for a memory.

But it was more than just a passing face, and she had no idea why.

"_You_..."

When he turned to look at her, he looked older this time. More of an aged grandfather than the wiry 20-something she'd seen in the diner and the bar in Cherokee. His lips turned up in a faint smile.

"Hello again," he said, his voice still carrying that smokey deepness to it. When he shifted, there was the sound of spurs and rattles. "He's only asleep, don't worry. I didn't send him off anywhere."

She continued to stare at him, locked solid in a weird confusion. Surprise kept her cautious, but she certainly didn't feel _threatened_. That was odd enough on its own.

"Okay..." she injected tentatively. "So... what are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood," he said, standing, then moving over to where she stood. His eyes traveled over her form, lingering for a moment on her midsection, before lifting to her eyes again. When he smiled, it was soft and warm. "One of my siblings called me. Told me she felt you in the area, and that you were stressed. I thought it best that you speak to a more familiar face."

Claire was pulled between wanting to step back and wondering why in the world she'd think to do such a thing, which was a complicated emotion, and one she didn't particularly enjoy at the moment. The complexity cracked a brief, almost strangled half-smile on her face before it melted away in a sound of breath scraping the back of her throat.

"This, um..." She pressed her lips and swallowed, looking around the hotel room, then back to him. _Coyote_, something said in her memory, but it had no connections she could make. "Am I dreaming? 'Cause, yeah—it's been a rough night, you're right there, but, uh... I don't know you, or any siblings, so—"

"Not yet," he answered. "But to answer your question, no. You're not dreaming. He is," Coyote answered, tipping his head back in Ben's direction. "But I made sure it was something gentle. One of his favorites. Have a seat. I want to talk to you about the future."

Claire's eyes flicked to Ben briefly before switching back to the kind old face. Hers was still pensive, but she stepped around him, lowering herself on the edge of the bed next to Ben. She wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't a dream, but the thought was hanging on by a thread.

"Alright, go'head..." Her stomach twisted with nerves, but not as they had earlier, with Jesse and the shitstorm they'd just entered into. Her eyes refused to move from his face.

"I'm sure by now you're becoming aware of Her."

Claire was quiet for another moment, filtering thoughts that weren't necessarily pleasant or comforting. She knew what he was talking about, and that was disturbing on a number of levels. The big question was, however: "How do you know?"

"We've always known," Coyote answered, pulling up one of the hotel chairs and setting it a few feet away from her before settling into it. "It was written in the stars, on the day of our Mother's passing. The first borns knew the signs. We waited. The moment you came through my grounds, I knew."

"Uh-_huh_." Claire was staring at him. "You knew _what_?"

"That you were the Lady." Coyote's smile lengthened a little. "I'm sorry, darlin'. Talkin' in riddles to you, I'll wager. I don't know the right words for it, though. Not the Christian ones, anyway. There's a similar story, that much I do know, but it's not the Christ you're carryin'."

The words alone dropped the bottom out of her stomach, but only briefly. Claire's jaw dropped, too, pushed with a breath she had apparently been holding.

"At least there's that," she breathed, automatically placing a hand on her stomach. "But since you made the effort to, uh, come talk to me and all - go on, even if it's not Christian words, because I've been lookin' into this stuff for a long time, and I'm lost as all hell." And boy did she mean that in so many ways.

His lips turned up in one corner. "There's a balance to the world, darlin'. Sometimes things come along and muck it up, set it off, but eventually everything rights itself again. We were without our Mother for a long, long time. But there was hope. She knew, when the last phoenix died, that they were comin' for her. That the doors would open. So she found the Weavers, and she had them write it into the fabric of this world. She found your story, and added her strand to it."

"...right," Claire started slowly. Making sense of all that was actually easier than it sounded, except for one major factor. "Who's 'She'?"

"Our Mother," Coyote repeated. "The Mother of all of us."

Claire's brows arched slowly, but high. She blinked once, then pointedly looked at the old man - god - whatever he was... and poked a finger onto her still mostly-flat stomach in askance. He nodded gently.

"You carry a fragment of her within you, yes. She left it in the strand, waiting for the day you would choose. And you did. It's a new beginning."

"And what's this supposed to be the beginning of?" She had to ask, that being the first of what was going to be a long string of questions. "I've gotten a good glimpse of the supposed future, and it doesn't look particularly great for _any_ of us."

"That was a different strand," Coyote explained, eyes moving past her to Ben's sleeping form. "One that would have become a very different cloth. The end of that one, and the ends of the Hell Prince and his abominations have changed it. It is still in the looms, but Her strand is strong. When She finally passes from this world, She will return to the Realm, to Her rightful place."

Maybe it was the mental and emotional exhaustion, but despite being relieved to hear Amitiel's version of the future wasn't set in stone, she didn't understand it any clearer. Claire closed her eyes and inhaled, feeling herself sag on the bed. "So what does this mean for me and them," she nodded to Ben, and obviously meant Jesse. "Why are you here?"

"To give you comfort," he said simply, one browned hand reaching across to rest on top of her knee. "And clarity. She feels what you feel, even now. Our Mother was angry, in her final days. Vengeful. Not all of us are monsters, Claire. We are all trying to survive, the same as you. Humans kill, angels kill, demons kill. That is the world." 

* * *

><p>Claire was still sleeping in the passenger's seat when they arrived, and he knew there was still stuff to bring in from the trunk, so he let her rest a bit longer as he killed the engine and stuck it in his pocket. A light went on in the upstairs window facing the road, then another a moment later on the second floor. The door opened, and a tall man appeared in the archway, backlit, holding a rifle. A moment later he lowered it and the door shut.<p>

Ben took a breath, let it out, and slid out of the driver's seat, going around to pop the trunk.

"Need a hand?" came a voice at his shoulder, craggy but friendly.

"Sure you can handle it?" Ben tossed back, cracking a small smile as he started pulling bags out and stacking them on the ground. He looked over into the face of his father. "They're not exactly filled with marshmallows and teddy bears."

"Little fucker," Dean said, snagging the strap of the next bag before Ben could put it down. "I ain't totally useless, kid. C'mon, I'll show you where we got you set up."

Ben put one on each of his shoulders, looking up to see Sam already heading toward them. He looked a little tired, like he hadn't slept very well, and he gave Ben a smile as he came around.

"Which ones?"

"The two in the front. The rest can stay," Ben answered. "Thanks, Sam."

"Don't mention it."

Ben fell into step with Dean, tossing a look back at Claire. "She'll be fine, kid. We got this place tighter'n Fort Knox," Dean said. "Where's the other one?"

"He's coming," Ben said quietly, turning his eyes upward to look at the sky. His breath rose into a twisting plume before evaporating. There were so many stars it was a little unreal. "We might be moving in a little earlier than I thought."

"No problem, kid. Room ain't exactly perfect, but you can fix it up," Dean said, heading through the front door. Ben followed on his heels.

"How many rooms're in this place, anyway?" he asked. "Been a while since I had the tour, and I'm pretty sure Bobby glossed over most of 'em."

"Ain't the same place as when Bobby was here," Dean said with a sad smile. "Got burned down. But we rebuilt best we good. Got four rooms, so should be plenty of room."

"Four bedrooms?" Ben clarified, chewing his lower lip as they started up the stairs. "S'the basement still good?"

"For what?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows. "You got shit you need to store, sure. Bunch of stuff down there."

Ben continued to chew his lips silently as he tried to think. He, Claire, and Jesse could keep to one room, but it wouldn't be right to ask if his father and uncle could share a room, being it was their house and also the fact that it might've been the first time in their entire lives where they'd had their own rooms.

"We might, ah, have a few more bodies to stack. If you're okay with it, I mean. Maybe the four of them could cram in the fourth room. They're used to living pretty close. I could set up bunkbeds or something—"

"Whoa, whoa, who? Jesus, Ben, I've been tryin' to be understandin', but if you're gettin' freaky-deaky with six people, we're gettin' into cult territory."

"What? No!" Ben bleated, stopping dead in his tracks as heat rushed to his face. "_God,_ are you kidding? It's hard enough with two! No, they're— they're the kids from Clifton. The ones that are left."

"Fuck, give me a heart attack, kid," Dean breathed, shoving his back to get him going again. "Wait, four left? You mean that's all that want to come."

"No," Ben said quietly, starting to move. They arrived in the room, Sam having already dropped off the bags he'd carried up and headed off to his room no doubt. Ben dropped down his two, then ran a hand backwards up through his hair as he closed his eyes. "I mean, that's it. That's all that's left."

Dropping his bag, Dean sat heavily in a desk chair. "Jesus. I know you said, but I didn't think... You know which fucker's responsible?"

"They were ambushed," Ben said, rolling his lips. "But there's a leader, yeah. His name's Amitiel."

Nodding, Dean said, "Well we'll get him. Fuck, all those kids. Should know better, but I didn't think angels had gone that dark side."

Ben let out a shaky sigh as he settled on the bed for a moment, dropping his head between his arms and sinking low into his knees. He wanted so badly to tell him everything, all of it; the past year and all the shit that had come out of demons and angels messing with their lives. He wanted to believe that Dean would take it calmly, give him the stability he so desperately needed but couldn't find in Claire or Jesse in their current states. Fear kept him silent. He _needed_ his father, and being chased out was a very real possibility. Worst case scenario, Jesse and the nephilim wouldn't be allowed nearby, and that left him in the same state he was trying to avoid.

"They had ties to Jesse. They want to take him down, so they hit him where it hurt. I think the only reason they haven't gone after Claire and me is because of the hex bag I made back when I went to Missouri."

Dean's expression darkened. "Then we'll show those angels they don't fuck with Winchesters." He pushed slowly to his feet. "You got much more?"

Ben stared at him for a few moments, struck dumb by his response. Then he got up, crossed the short distance between them, and hugged the other man hard. There were really no words for how grateful he felt. There was a moment before Dean hugged him back, just as hard.

"Glad you came to me, kid," he said, his voice a bit rough. Ben ducked his head against Dean's shoulder and just focused on breathing for a moment. He smelled like old leather, whiskey, and Old Spice. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," he replied thickly. He held on for a few seconds more, then took a steadying breath. "Just gotta go get Claire. If you wanna head back to bed, I'll catch up with you in the mornin'."

Giving his back a hard pat, Dean pulled back. "You sleep tight, kid. You need anything, knock. I'm just down the hall."

Ben cracked a small smile. "Just like old times," he said, giving his shoulder one last squeeze before slipping out the door and down the hall. In no time at all be was back in front of the car, popping the door open on Claire's side. She was still sleeping. With the utmost care, Ben slid his arm beneath her legs and around her shoulders, tugging her out and then lifting her to cradle against his chest. It took him a moment to get stable on his feet, then he hip-checked the door closed and started back the way he came.

"I can walk, y'know," she said very softly into Ben's shoulder, without having stirred otherwise. "But I can keep pretending not to."

Ben smiled some, holding on a little tighter and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just wanted you to sleep as long as possible. I swear I'm not tryin' to be one of those super overprotective pricks."

"Believe it or not, I don't mind being carried around once in a while."

That pulled a small laugh out of him. He nudged the door shut behind him, making a mental note to come down, lock up, and line it as he slowly took to the stairs. Walking up was always a bit harder than walking the ground flat, and his arms started to ache a little.

"Noted. We're here, by the way. And I think we're gonna be okay."

Claire pulled in a long, slow breath, but didn't want to let go of him quite yet. In fact, she held him tighter for one, lingering moment, speaking into the crook of his neck.

"There's something I need to tell you."

They reached the top of the stairs, and Ben nearly tripped at her precursor, but managed to keep it together. Knowing that nothing good ever came with those words, he closed the door behind them. 

* * *

><p>Jesse didn't think he'd ever had a night where he slept so little but didn't mind at all. Well, at least not when sex wasn't involved. He and the nephilim had arrived just after dinner, their nerves running wild. After awkward introductions, he took them straight to their room, where he helped them get situated on two mattresses on the floor. By the time they'd all calmed down, it was time for bed, but the very suggestion of him leaving them ratcheted up the tension again. So after a quick chat with Ben and Claire, he settled in to sleep on the floor with them.<p>

Turned out they didn't need two mattresses, because they only slept on one. On top of him. It was the only way they could all be the ones "next" to him. Sleeping under a cross between a blanket and a human pyramid wasn't really possible, but he couldn't be upset. All that came from them was love, love, love, encircling him, sinking into him. So he was smiling when he extricated himself at 4 AM and went downstairs for a piss and a snack, the nephilim completely conked out.

When he got there, though, the kitchen light was already on. At the table sat the younger Winchester, the kitchen table covered in books and papers, an ancient-looking laptop settled off to the side. Sam looked up at the sound of footsteps, already reaching for a chipped ceramic mug which he took a sip from. Jesse paused in the doorway, wishing he hadn't been seen. Couldn't exactly sneak off now.

"Mornin'," he said, ruffling his already ruffled hair. Sam's lips quirked, tugging into one cheek as he turned his eyes back to the computer screen.

"It ain't morning 'til I've gone to bed," the older man said, his voice tinted with humor.

Jesse smiled, his shoulders easing. "Guess it's night for both of us. Is...is okay if I eat something?"

"There's stew in the plastic cottage cheese container," Sam replied. He got up, going over to the coffee carafe and refilling his mug. "Just make sure to leave some of it. Dean'll be pissed if he doesn't get any."

"He didn't get any last night?" Jesse said, digging into the fridge and tugging out the stew.

"He always wants the last of everything," Sam commented, moving back to his seat. "Just how he is."

Dishing out a bowl, Jesse said, "I'd love to say Ben is the same way, but I think that's me, actually." He paused a moment before starting the microwave and turning back to Sam. "You remember me at all?"

Sam leaned back in the seat, his long legs poking out from beneath the table as he met Jesse's eyes. For the briefest moment something haunted passed over them, but then it was right back to business-as-usual.

"I do. Pretty hard not to."

Jesse let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "I remember you, too."

Again Sam's lips quirked, but there was a sadness in his face. "That was a hard thing you did. Took a lot of courage most people twice your age wouldn't have been able to muster."

Shrugging, Jesse shook his head. "I was scared. I ran. Really, I should have gone with you. I didn't want to fight, but I guess it doesn't mater what you want. If the other guy wants to fight, it's going to happen."

Sam nodded slowly in agreement, chewing on the corner of his lip before adding, "But you managed not to go nuts with it. With your powers. You didn't bring the world down around you." The same haunted look passed over the older man's face, tinged with regret, but he forced a smile around it. "I'm proud of you, for that."

Pushing up, Jesse sat on the countertop as he looked at him, chewing his tongue. It was probably rude to ask, but he might not get another chance alone with the man. "When we were there, with the demon, you said you made the wrong choice before. You can go on and tell me to fuck off if you want, but I always wondered what that choice was."

Sam ran a hand over his face, eyes drifting off to the side as he gave a breath of a laugh that held no humor in it.

"That was..." he started, trailing off with a shake of his head. "I made a mistake. Pretty damn big one, actually. It's a long, long story. The short of it is, I let myself think I was the only one in the world who could fix things."

Jesse's grip on the edge of the counter tightened. "What do you mean?"

"I had power, once." Sam sat up, hands folding on the tabletop. "I still could, actually. If I wanted it. It's part of... what I was destined to be. Me and my brother, we had this story we were supposed to be a part of. Roles to play, y'know how it goes." He sighed. "I opened Lucifer's cage." His eyes darted off to the side for a moment and his whole posture shifted and tensed. After closing his eyes and wringing his hands, he took a breath and let it out slowly. "It could've been avoided if I'd just... listened to my brother. Maybe." He let out another humorless laugh. "Or maybe it would've played out anyway, I dunno. But it didn't have to be the way it ended up bein'. I did a lot of bad things. People died, because of me. Innocent people."

There was a long silence before Jesse said a quiet, "Me, too." Then the microwave went off, nearly making him jump off the counter. Sam's lips curved up in a faint smile and he relaxed a little, then rubbed his neck. He let out another sigh.

"That before or after you started hunting?" he asked.

Jesse pulled the bowl out of the microwave, concentrating on stirring it up. "Little of both. I did a lot of bad things before. Innocent peopled died two days ago."

Sam hummed in understanding and was quiet for a few minutes before speaking. "It's a little different, but I get it. That's the thing though, isn't it? I warned you. Win or lose, you're part of things now."

His stomach twisting, Jesse nodded. He took a couple bites, swallowing down before speaking. "When you found out you weren't the only one who could fix things, what did you do? How did you try to make it better?"

Sam tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before looking back to Jesse again. "By making it worse. Usually the way things work, you have to hit rock bottom before things get better. Believe me, I went about as far below bottom as any person can get."

Jesse stared at him, his heart thudding in his chest. "I...I don't want to hit rock bottom. I can't."

Sam's smile turned wry. "I'm not sayin' you should follow my example, Jesse. I saw a lot of myself in you when you were a kid, but... you're not me, and I wouldn't want you to be."

"No offense, but I don't want to be you either," he said with a humorless laugh. "But those angels, they killed people who were my family. And it feels like I'm the only one who can make it right, that I'm the only one who can protect the family I've got left."

Sam swallowed visibly, his face pinched in thought as he stared into Jesse's face. It was obvious the other man was thinking on how to respond, and the weight of the silence as it dragged on between them made it clear that he was having difficulty finding the words. When he finally did speak, his voice was low and quiet.

"I'm not sayin' don't protect them," he said. "But don't try and do it by yourself. You go down that path, you'll end up alone, or dead. It'll eat away at you." His head tipped up to the ceiling, indicating the rest of the sleeping house. "Each one of 'em feels the same way."

Jesse nodded, ducking his head and stirring the stew. Work together. That's something he and Ben and Claire had been trying for all along. He shouldn't forget it now. "Alright. Thanks."

The chair skidded as Sam adjusted it. "They're not just civilians," he said quietly. It wasn't a question.

"They're something like me," Jesse said quietly. "Only from the other direction. But they might as well be my brothers and sisters."

There was another long pause. "Were all of them...?"

"Yeah. They could—they can do some of the things I can. They were supposed to be my army." His mouth twisted. That sounded so stupid, out in the open. "But I told them not to fight. So when the angels came, they didn't."

Sam let out a breath. "I'm starting to wonder if there's such a thing as an original idea anymore," he said, his tone a little bitter.

Jesse frowned, looking up at him. Sam was hunched over the table, holding his head up with his hands, his hair in his face.

"Dean said Ben told him how they'd mentioned Michael. And then you with the army? It's like they're trying to hash out that shit again. Like we were just some kind of beta test." He turned his eyes up to look into Jesse's face. "Whatever happens, don't go down that road. You remember all the shit that happened back in 2009, don't you?"

"...Not really? I don't know what you mean. I sort of was in Australia," he said, a bit sheepishly.

"Armageddon," Sam said, his voice even in spite of the look in his eyes. "Revelations. That stuff. Because of Lucifer. You were at your most powerful when he walked the earth. What you can do now is nothing in comparison to what you can do if you ever—" He stopped suddenly, eyes closing tight, his breath hitching. "Just... don't. I know you're angry, but if you try and take that route, Jesse, I'll have to stop you."

A shiver ran through Jesse, his bowl nearly slipping from his fingers. He didn't need to ask how he would be stopped. For the first time, Jesse looked at Sam Winchester and felt fear. And he realized he might have done better to keep quiet about the nephilim.

"You..." He licked his lips. "What would be that line for you? So I stay far away from it."

Sam was quiet for a long time, his expression pensive. "Don't let him out," he said at last. "And don't take on more than you can handle. Not _just_ you, but you and the others. We can't fight whole legions of angels and demons, Jesse. It isn't just Lucifer down there anymore." Some of the color drained out of the older man's face. "It's Michael. Try and imagine it. These were the two angels meant to rend the world asunder. You think you can control that?"

"I don't even know how I'd let any of them out, much less wanting to _do_ it," Jesse said quickly, his voice a bit high. "I just— I need to stop the angels from coming after us. They _won't stop_."

"You're right," Sam said quietly. "Not until you prove you won't be a threat. Given what you are, it's likely they'll never stop. That's why you gotta keep runnin'."

Jesse's expression drained. He set his bowl in the sink, still half full. "You want us to go."

"No," Sam said gently. "You can stop for a little while. We can keep 'em out, but that's really a temporary solution. All of you are frazzled. You need a minute to catch your breath."

"And then leave," Jesse said, blinking furiously. "I can't do that to Ben and Claire. I can't drag them around forever, and I can't leave them."

"Maybe you should talk to them about that before you go makin' decisions for them," Sam said sternly. "They're hunters, Jesse. They can handle moving around. Believe it or not, there aren't a whole lot of home bases for hunters." His expression seemed to tighten and his eyes dropped. "They were targets. They were burned down, along with everyone inside."

Jesse stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"One of our colleagues used to have a roadhouse. She hosted hunters." His eyes lifted to Jesse's face, carefully masked. "Me'n my brother were pretty high on the bounty, and we stopped in a couple times. You do the math."

Stomach roiling, Jesse could only manage a quiet, "Oh." He turned his wedding band round and round his finger. He'd thought, with Ben and Claire, his life would be different. That they'd be able to settle down and be real people and raise a kid right. Instead all he'd done was tie them to the life he hated.

He slid off the counter, eyes low. "We won't stay here long, I promise."

Sam nodded solemnly, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gently said, "We're not exactly spring chickens anymore. Whatever happens to us now, don't let it weigh you down." He paused, then added, "I won't share what we talked about. I know you were just trying to sort things out. As long as you and the others are here, you're safe. You don't have anything to worry about."

_And when we leave?_ He swallowed it down, nodding. "I won't tell anyone either."

Sam gave him a thin-lipped smile. "Good. Probably for the best." His eyes scanned Jesse's face, seemingly taking in his posture and body language. His brow pinched a little and he took a breath in thought, then reconsidered and said, "G'night."

"'Night," Jesse said before heading straight upstairs. He didn't care if he never got sleep again; he just needed to be with the nephilim, to feel that protection and love again. 

* * *

><p>It had taken a while to fall asleep with Jesse not there, but he felt better knowing he was nearby than on the other side of the globe or wherever it was he had gone with the nephilim. In truth, it wasn't just Jesse's proximity that put some ease into him: He and Dean had spent part of the day doing tune-ups on the GTO and talking. He'd watched Claire cooking and his father and uncle sitting at the table, watching her with mixed reactions, all of them positive. Dean had been particularly pleased when Claire mentioned going into town the next morning to buy apples for pie. Granted, the nephilims' arrival had been a bit awkward, but things had evened out pretty quickly.<p>

He hadn't felt this good since he'd gone to see his mother on his birthday. It was enough to set his nerves on edge. Everything good always inevitably fell flat on him. He knew deep down that Dean was better off than his mother had been, that he would be able to handle things. The salvage yard was held together, like he said. That didn't stop the prickling sensation on the back of his neck, even after his head hit the pillow and he curled against Claire's back.

The dream had started off pretty typical, given his anxiety level. He was in the basement of the warehouse, tied up against his mother's form, trying not to hyperventilate. His head turned up as he heard the noises outside the door — noises he knew had to be Dean — and for the briefest moment he had a flicker of hope. Then the door opened, but it wasn't Dean. It was himself. The self he remembered looking like. But there were differences; his hair was slicked back, and he wore a crisp white suit. His beard was long-gone. Ben stood up swiftly, without even realizing it should have been impossible, and a half-second later he looked back to see his mother was gone. The warehouse was still there, but everyone in it had vanished. Ben scowled.

"Get out of my head."

His mirror self tilted his head. "Stop endangering the world."

"I don't have time for this," Ben snarled, tromping up the stair toward the angel. "We got rid of Belial, and Jesse would be _fine_ if it wasn't for you!"

"The fact that you believe that shows just how ignorant you are of the situation." Amitiel's eyes narrowed. "A leaderless army is still an army."

"Then we're all soldiers," Ben growled. "Because every single one of us on this planet are goin' on without a leader. You gonna torch the whole damn planet?"

"Humans aren't the same as nephilim," Amitiel said darkly. "Those creatures were abominations and they never would have been anything else. Death was better, for them and for this world."

"They were _children!_ He was trying to teach them to be normal!" If there was any point to it, he would have thrown the angel borrowing his face against the wall, or over the railing.

Amitiel pressed in close, nose almost touching Ben's. "He would have failed and they would have torn your world to _shreds_," he snarled. It was the most furious Ben had ever seen the angel, who up until that point had always stared into his face with stoicism and nonchalance. Ben felt his pulse quicken, but he didn't back down. "It did not even affect us; we were doing it to save humanity. _Real_ children."

"Children are children. You don't kill children. You don't _kill_ until there's a _threat_."

Amitiel steeled his expression but his jaw was still clenched. "Your fellow hunters don't share your opinion. And these children were more a threat than most of the things you've killed."

Ben's hands tightened into fists at his sides. He didn't care about other hunters. Everything deserved a chance. Everyone could change.

"What do you want?" he asked, visibly shaking with restrained rage. He knew that the angel wouldn't leave until whatever message he had was delivered, and all he wanted was for him to be gone. He would gladly relive his worst nightmare than to deal with the angel.

"Your bedding down with the cambion is putting you in more danger than simply the company he keeps," Amitiel said darkly. "His demon mother is in your world again, and if you are with him, you'll be in her crosshairs."

"Yeah well, it's my life," Ben said with a sneer. "And I can handle a demon. So you might as well go to another department store, because you're not walking out with my meatsuit. Stop showing up in it in my head like you pay rent here."

"I could check in with your wife." Amitiel's voice was purposefully flat. Ben shoved him hard, his expression fierce.

"You go near her, so help me, I'll kill you myself."

"That would be difficult were I inside her," Amitiel said, unfazed.

"She'll never say yes to you," Ben snarled. "Never."

"Then the next time you see me, I will have chosen another. And it will not go well for you."

Ben's arms spread wide as he glared the angel down. "In the words of my generation? Come at me, bro."

Amitiel blinked at him. Then he pulled back. "Very well then. You have signed away your soul as far as I am concerned."

Ben balked slightly. He'd figured there would be anger and frustration from the angel, but a threat to his soul? _He's bluffing,_ he told himself. Unfortunately the thought wasn't safe from the angel's awareness in Ben's current state. He opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could form the words, Amitiel was gone. A moment later Ben woke up, taking a sharp breath in disorientation.

"Jesus, you two have _got_ to stop scaring me like this." Claire had been hovering over him, but now nearly collapsed with relief once he'd come to.

"Sorry," he said, his voice a little rough from sleep. He pushed his palm into his eye. "Was I tossing or somethin'?" Claire settled back on the bed, still calming down.

"No, actually," she started, "I just—well, _needed_ to wake you up." That wouldn't have made nearly as much sense as it did now, but it was still unnerving. Ben frowned a little, rolling toward her, his hand crossing over the distance between them to find hers and threading their fingers together.

"It's okay. I'm okay now." He took a breath, then slowly let it out. "Amitiel's shopping." Claire felt her stomach drop. She let out a breath, squeezing his hand.

"_Wonderful._" A swallow didn't help the tightness in her throat. "What else he say?"

"He might pop into your head in the next few days," Ben said quietly, immediately feeling regret for saying it. "But... I think it was just a threat. And you've got... ways around it now. You can avoid him. Don't worry."

She looked at him for a moment of silence, studying his face as if she could read the answer to the question on her mind.

She didn't find it.

"Does he know...?"

"About the baby?" Ben asked. He shook his head. "I don't know. I want to say no, because he thought he could get in. Or maybe he just doesn't care." Claire's nose wrinkled a bit with her sigh.

"I wish that was encouraging."

His hand gave hers a light squeeze. "Me, too," he murmured. "But you still have the choice. You can still say no. Don't let him in."

"Oh, don't worry," she answered, not even bothering to suppress the mental shudder. "He's burned that bridge."

"We're prime real estate," Ben warned her gently. "We're right where he wants to be. He said he was done with me, but I don't believe it."

Claire was quiet, but nodded. She understood.

"I guess we'll deal with it as it comes," she said without enthusiasm. She was just too tired to put much more emotion into the statement. Ever since Jesse brought the Four back with him, she hadn't slept for more than an hour at a time. He shifted on the bed, moving closer, then snaking his arm around her and pulling her frame against his.

"Yeah," he said quietly. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his hand resting over her middle, fingers splayed wide. "What can I do to make you more comfortable, baby?" Claire closed her eyes and breathed in deep, just letting the warmth he put out wrap around her like a blanket.

"I think just stay where you are."

"Don't think I haven't noticed you not sleepin' since Jess got here," he pointed out, kissing her temple again, his fingertips coming up before flattening again, moving the fabric. "It isn't good for you not to sleep." Claire just sighed a bit, but kept her eyes closed.

"I can't help it."

"Talk to her," Ben said gently. "Let her know that she's safe. You'll keep her safe. I will, too." His other arm came around her, settling his hand next to the first. She hugged them both in tight, feeling like she wanted nothing more than to just disappear inside the feel-good. Seemed like it could turn at any moment

"You hear that, sweetie?" he said over her shoulder, down to her belly before he kissed the side of her neck and rocked her gently. "Daddy's got you. You don't have to be scared. Let mama sleep." Despite the exhaustion, Claire couldn't help the dimpled smile that spread across her lips.

"You are the cheesiest person I've ever known," she whispered adoringly. "Thank you."

She could feel him smile against her neck, his nose trailing down the shell of her ear. "You love it." His breath tickled, but Claire revelled in the feeling.

"I do," she said with a nod and a little bit of a crooked smile. He leaned over her, tipping her head back a little so he could kiss her. 

* * *

><p><em>Antsy<em> didn't quite cover what Claire'd been feeling lately, and for good reason - at least in her mind - but there was little she could do about it all besides try to adjust. She was good at that; _adjusting_. There'd certainly been enough opportunity for practice in the last year or so. Back then, though they had the luxury of always moving, always having something else to concentrate on. Here in small-town South Dakota, surrounded by the closest thing she'd had to actual family in more than a decade, Claire knew she'd go stir-crazy if she didn't find something to do.

Some people called it 'nesting', but it wasn't instinctual for her - not _yet_. The subtle swell in her lower abdomen was noticeable, but barely, enough for her to have abandoned her jeans for sweatpants or, when she had to go out, skirts. She'd also cleaned the house from top to bottom with the lack of sleep, and now stood at the kitchen counter next to a mesh bag of baking apples and small basket of blueberries, peeling away at four-forty-five in the morning. The house was quiet as a tomb, save for the occasional creak as it settled, or the wind picking up against the window panes. It was easy to forget that there were eight other bodies asleep inside until she heard the steps creaking subtly and footsteps heading in her direction until they were on top of her.

"Mornin'."

Claire's peeling paused so she could look over her shoulder, then _up_ over her shoulder. She gave Sam a quick, but small smile before turning her attention back to the apples. "Insomnia is contagious in this house."

The younger Winchester brother chuckled, opening a drawer with all the familiarity of having lived there since the beginning and pulling out a peeler. Without even asking, he grabbed an apple and joined her efforts.

"You know how it is," he said quietly. "You spend your whole life lucky to get four hours on a good day, you kind of forget that you're capable of sleeping that much."

"Amen to that." Claire glanced across at the apple he carved into, then went back to her own. She wasn't going to turn down help, especially when it felt more social than a chore. "Don't think I've cooked this much in my life, _ever_."

That was enough to pull another soft chuckle from Sam. "Dean does most of the cooking. I balance it out, though. If it were up to him, we'd eat meat and potatoes every day. It's a wonder he's lived this long." The chuckle on Claire's breath was multi-layered.

"Dean doesn't strike me as the culinary type." With the back of a scarred wrist, she swiped at an errant piece of hair that fell from the pinned-back sides. "'Course the only way I learned was watchin' my grandma throw sugar and flour together and magically producing a pie."

"Yeah," Sam said with a smile. "That sounds about right." He had managed to get all of the peel off in one long motion, turning the apple rather than the peeler. When he finally got to the bottom, he ripped the peel into halves and offered her one before sticking the other piece into his mouth. "Well it was Hamburger Helper first. Or, as I apparently used to call it, Glove." His smile widened fondly at the memory. "Then it got better. But then puberty hit, and Dean kinda stopped caring about feeding us and started caring a bit more about girls."

Half an apple peel dangling out from her lips like a string, Claire nodded with a quiet exhale through her nose. "One-track mind," she said around the snack. She got that. "You seemed to grow past it, at least." Claire gave him a comical look with one brow arched, and Sam laughed.

"I was never good with girls," Sam admitted. "Not until much, much later, and even then." He put the apple in the little bowl of water, his eyes going a little sad before he quickly asked, "Did you put lemon juice in that?"

"Do you _have_ lemon juice?" she answered his question with another in a light tone, but still watched her hands and the knife in them. Sam quickly went to the fridge, tugging out a little plastic container shaped like its contents, and gave it a few good squirts. After a quick shake in the water with his long fingers, he grabbed for another piece of fruit and took to it again.

"He learned a few recipes from Lisa too, actually. She liked it when he cooked."

Claire flicked a look up at him, then back down. She nodded, but didn't say anything right away, automatically careful around the subject of Ben's mother. Then she remembered Ben was in bed.

"I liked her. Miss her, too," she said quietly. It would always weigh heavily on her mind how much Ben would've loved Lisa to be at their wedding. "Hard not to. Actually, there's a lot of people I miss." Man, if that wasn't a loaded statement. "Kinda looking forward to staying in one place. Maybe I can see them more."

Sam didn't answer, though his eyes said all the words he clearly was thinking. Having found his rhythm with the first apple, he quickly went through the second one.

"I take it she wasn't there when you tied the knot, then?"

Claire shook her head, and dropped her apple in the water. "We were laying low. I know she would've come, but we didn't want her to risk it." Picking up another apple, she went on after a pause. "Sorry we didn't tell you two about it earlier. There was a lot going on that week."

Sam reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He smiled again, soft and full of memories, then went back to peeling his next apple.

"Ain't about us. It's about you and them. But thank you all the same, for the thought."

The gentle reminder did her good, and eased some of the tension she'd been carrying around as a constant. She popped another piece of peel in her mouth. It was bittersweet; perfect for baking, and oddly metaphorical. Or maybe that was just the lack of sleep.

"You know, I always found it kinda funny that Ben's the one of us who has the best notion of what a 'normal family' is."

Sam's smile turned wry. "That's the thing about life, though. You always want what somebody else's got. I wanted normal when I was his age. Turned out normal was pretty boring."

Claire huffed lightly. Perhaps a little more dry than she intended. "Yeah, well. There's no 'normal' in our future."

"You sound surprised," Sam teased, nudging his shoulder lightly against hers, which jarred her hand at just the right time. The knife slipped off the polished apple skin and sliced into the side of her thumb. Claire hissed a little, but waved off any immediate concern.

"S'okay; just a nick," she said popping her thumb in her lips and heading to the sink.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Sam said in a rush, sounding more like he'd shot her as he came over to her side. "Hang on, lemme— there's a kit, under the sink. Just apply pressure—"

"Really, Sam, it's nothin'," she said, trying to avoid his bulk by her legs as she flipped on the tap. "I've had a lot worse. Look, not even bleeding."

He'd already grabbed the kit and stood, rising so quickly to his full height that it was a wonder he didn't get a head rush as he took her hand to check it. Sure enough, the cut wasn't bleeding anymore. Then it sealed itself and faded right in front of his eyes. Sam stared for a few seconds, speechless. Not realizing what had his fixed attention, Claire just watched him, brows arched.

"You're not gonna pass out, are you?" He looked a little green at the gills.

"It's Jesse's kid, isn't it?" Sam asked, his voice pitched low. Claire's brows knitted down. She felt her heart skip a beat, and took back her hand to examine it.

Sure enough, no cut. She inhaled deep and let it out shakily, trying to let this one more discovery sink in. To answer Sam's question, she gave him a somber nod.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line before he asked, "Does he know?"

"They both do." Claire wiped her hand on the apron around her waist, heading back to the counter with the apples. Sam stalled a moment before moving back as well, although he didn't pick up the peeler just yet.

"Has that happened before?"

She shook her head. "No, but it's not the weirdest thing to happen." Coyote's face flashed in her mind, perhaps as a reminder to filter her words. But it didn't feel natural - like old instincts were clashing with her new ones. That happened a lot as of late.

She could still feel Sam's eyes on her back, his frame very still before he finally moved back to her side and picked up the peeler again. For a moment he just held it awkwardly, as though he'd forgotten how it worked, then he picked up the apple he'd been working on, sliced off the peel where he'd stopped, and started again.

She understood the silence. It wasn't hard to pick the questions out of the air, but he was being passive. Either for respect or as a tactic, either way, Claire understood. She took a deep breath and continued to peel.

"Ever dreamwalked? It's trippy," she started, swallowing as a segue. "My instincts are, as Ben puts it, at 'X-men levels'. And apparently I can stare a roid-raging werewolf into submission." Was she a little flustered? You bet. "I also _know things_."

Sam's head turned to look at her, his eyes going a little wide. For a moment, he looked very much like Ben, with the long hair and the scruffy face. It was a little creepy. "I've... had similar issues. But that had more to do with the fact that I have demon blood." Claire, however, didn't really look surprised at this.

In fact, she didn't look at him at all.

"Well. Guess you could say I do, too. Sort of." Another apple joined the rest in the water. "I remember the demon. Said the same thing as..." Only then, she paused, barely containing Kadiel's name on her lips. She cleared her throat. "Both a demon and an angel told me there isn't a name for what this is. Neither Top nor Bottom knows what's going on - but both are in a fuckin' tizzy because of it."

"Well then," Sam said quietly. "I guess it's good that you're here."

A smile tugged at Claire's lips, but it was a sad one. She said nothing for a minute, then turned a truly apologetic look in his direction. She let it sink in, then went back to peeling.

"Just our breed of 'normal'," she mused, heavily. "Thanks for putting us up, in any case. If I told Kat what I just told you, her skull would split."

Sam's brows furrowed a little as he turned his head to look at her. "Kat?"

"Nevins," she said, then glanced his way. "You think I got this bad-ass on my own?"

Sam blinked for a moment, his brows furrowing as he turned his eyes back to his apple. Then his lips turned up in a slow smile and he let out a laugh.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed, shaking his head. "You know, for eight billion people, this really is a small world." Claire snorted.

"It is in _our_ circles." She gave him another, more close examination. "I know Kat knows just about everyone, but she try to kick your ass at some point?"

"Oh, no," Sam said, smiling down at the apple as he tossed it into the water bowl. "But I knew her. She ever tell you how she got into things?"

Claire shrugged a little. "Vaguely. Somethin' about a ghost."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head a little again. "Knew she couldn't just leave well enough alone. She was pretty damn feisty though, I remember that much. Nearly shot Dean with the shotgun I left her."

Claire watched him with the closest thing to a goofy smile on her face before it cracked into a laugh. "I'll be damned." Small world indeed. "Yeah, 'feisty' is a good word for her, and it's only gotten better over the years. I was barely eighteen when we ended up both going after the same demon. She saw how green I was after I got my ass handed to me and took me in."

"The amount of _Pay It Forward_ in this whole scenario is borderline creepy, just FYI," Sam said, giving up on peeling apples in exchange for eating the peels. He leaned back on the counter to watch her.

"I don't understand that reference."

Sam blinked at her, a flicker of sadness crossing his face before he smirked some. "Haley Joel Osmond movie. I'll dig it out for you later. You probably were in diapers when it came out, so I forgive you."

"Don't worry," she said, dropping the last apple in the bowl, then stretching up into the cabinet for the dry ingredients. "I don't get half the stuff Ben quotes."

"Make a list. We've got broadband out here, believe it or not, and you'll probably be bored hanging out with us old geezers after a while."

"Oh I'm sure we'll keep each other on our toes somehow." Claire pulled down the sugar and flour, then squinted up at the top shelf before wiggling a point up at it. "Case in point - grab me that cinnamon and nutmeg."

Sam smirked a little, not even having to lean up in order to get the two spices she asked for. He held them just out of her reach, still smirking. She got the joke, and scoffed, smirking right back.

"_Really_?" Still smirking, Claire reached up to snag his shirt and skin in a quick technique known on schoolyards as a Purple Nurple. Sam immediately cringed back and let out a very effeminate noise, an arm going protectively across his chest as he stared at her in shock. Without even a moment's hesitation, he leaned in and licked her on the forehead, and _she_ chirped out a sound of surprise and grossness, much like a twelve year old might. It was followed by a laugh, and a handful of flour in his face, which he sputtered out. It clung to his scruff and his eyelashes, and floated away from his face when he huffed a breath out of his nose.

"What's all the racket?"

Claire was still snickering and wiping Sam-spit off her forehead with the back of her hand when Ben's voice grabbed her attention. She pointed at his uncle, but couldn't keep a straight face. "He started it."

"Wha— You— She violated my chest!" Sam argued, his face going a bit red with suppressed laughter. Ben's brows rose as he looked between the two of them, a little bemused.

"Welcome to my life."

Claire coughed out a laugh. "I don't _violate_ your chest." And then added quickly, "And I didn't violate _yours_ either." That said to Sam with another flick of flour off her fingers. He caught them, working her arm right into her back, though he was very gentle about it.

"You are three seconds away from being held upside down, missy."

"Ah yes, the tall person's threat. Used that one once or twice myself on my sister," Ben said with a faint smirk. "You're gonna wake up the whole house with the way you two are going on." His eyes moved past Claire's shoulder, seeing the ingredients and then looking back at her with a grin.

"I thought you said you were just gonna get filling and a crust."

"Gives me more to do," Claire replied, matching his grin with a slightly crooked one of her own, which turned toward Sam over one shoulder, teasing. "Little to the left."

Sam ruffled her hair with his other hand, then let her arm go. His face was a little pink high in his cheeks.

"_Your_ left, you big jerk."

Ben snorted. "Don't you have lightbulbs to change, or something?"

Sam let out a bark of a laugh, giving him a playful glare. "No respect." He went to the sink, ran his hands under the water, and wiped them down the sides of his face. "Better go get a shower before everyone else burns out the hot water." He gave Claire's hair a slight tug on passing, then headed off.

Claire watched Sam go with a soft smile that turned to Ben not long after, picking up the apple bowl to drain it in the sink. "What woke you?"

"Lack of you," he said, moving right up behind her and leaning up flush. One arm winded around her while the other swept her hair away from her neck as he trailed his lips up the curve. Goosebumps chased his breath down her spine, and Claire closed her eyes. Just for a moment, she wanted to let everything else go. Just _for a moment_.

"Keep that up, and this pie isn't gonna get made," she hushed. His other arm slid down to join its partner, pressing against the scoop of her hip and pulling her back into him more snugly. He continued to kiss her neck, letting out a low chuckle.

"Better now than before the pie's in the oven and we set it to burn," he murmured. She chuckled low, nuzzling back against him. Her palms took to leaning most of her weight on the counter.

"So this is probably a bad time to tell you I discovered something _new_ about myself this morning—?"

"If it's not life-threatening, it can wait," he said, the hand that had been at her hip pulling up her skirt, the fabric thin and delicately gliding against his skin as he sought out the skin beneath. The thrill of being found made every nerve hypersensitive, as was made very clear by the very pronounced weight pressing against her back. A deft smirk tugged into Claire's cheek as she swayed on her feet, adjusting her balance a bit to compensate.

"Someone's full of good ideas this mornin'," she teased low. She flicked a glance up at the clock over the microwave, then down the hallway as his hand skimmed over her underwear and then past the elastic. Claire held her breath, her back arching a little deeper.

"I get them sometimes," he said against her ear, nipping at the lobe. "Gotta seize the opportunities as they arise."

Finally closing her eyes, she was fully aware of just how much her heart had picked up. Was it the best of ideas? Probably not, but instincts or wishful thinking - whatever it was, it was telling her no one else was even remotely around. Jesse was still sleeping - she could feel it. Though she wished he was there with them (a thought that rarely left her mind in the last few days) missing him was exhausting. Claire just wanted to feel good for a little while.

"So what're you waitin' for?" she said in a gritty whisper. He chuckled in response, kissing the spot just behind her ear.

"Yes, ma'am," he rumbled out, the tips of two fingers sliding down between her legs. Claire let go of her lip just long enough to gasp desperately, his voice as he whispered low, encouraging things in her ear adding edges to every sensation taking her over. Each strangled breath held a little pinch of her voice, until shaking, her weight faltered on the counter and she came with a rasped version of his name. Letting go of the counter, her hand quickly covered her mouth, catching the pitched cries that followed. His hand left her breast, tipping her head back and pulling her hand away in order to claim her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. He continued to thrust his fingers through it until she finally started to sag, then he pulled back, holding her up with strong, steady arms. Good thing, since her knees felt a bit like jello.

"Not done, are you?" she was able to breathe and chuckle at the same time, rolling her hips back flush against him. He kissed her again, softer the second time.

"I can wait until later. Those apples'll go brown if you don't deal with 'em soon."

Only a soft creak of floorboards and thunk of the rubber sole of his cane announced Dean's entrance into the kitchen. He stopped by the door with a grunt of surprise.

"Jesus, don't you kids—sleep." There was just the barest of breaks in the words, his eyes moving pretty quickly to the fridge. "Enjoy sleeping while you can, 'cause you get my age, you don't got a choice."

Claire tried to keep her face - still probably flushed and bright with a glow that had nothing to do with pregnancy - aimed down at the apple slices and blueberries she was now mixing in a bowl. She cleared her throat lightly without realizing it, and leaned heavily against the counter. Shaking legs weren't good to stand on. Ben didn't move either, his face growing hotter. There would be no way to hide the very obvious strain in his sweats unless he made a mad dash for the table to sit in it.

"Baby'll probably keep us up for a while anyway. Might as well adjust now," Ben said, his voice pitched toward the cabinet until he turned to look over his shoulder in the direction of his father. "Claire's making the pie from scratch. I was helping."

The lingering awkwardness left Dean's expression as he grinned. "Ah hell, that makes you my favorite, girl. Sorry, Ben," he added, opening the fridge and getting out some orange juice.

"She's everybody's favorite girl," Ben said proudly, subtly pressing his hips into hers again. Seeing the possible get away, he pressed a quick kiss to her neck. "Sam oughta be outta the shower by now. And if he isn't, I'm gonna dump a bucket of cold water over. See you in a bit."

"Kay," Claire quipped lightly, sending him a look as he went, then a side-glance toward Dean that ended in a crooked smile of greeting. It went back down to the bowl at her hands. "Good sleep?" The half-assed measured sugar, brown sugar, and flour were turned over in the fruit. After the impromptu delay.

Dean shrugged. "I make do." He came over, taking a swig of juice before setting his glass down. "Hope you ain't working this hard to impress us or anything. Last pie I had was from McDonald's, so you really don't need to go to the trouble."

She snickered lightly, lifting a brow at him while folding the nutmeg and cinnamon in with the rest. Every different aroma - the crispness of the apples, the sweet tart of blueberries, and heady sugar were edged by the spices and potent as any air freshener. "You sayin' I should stop?"

"Hell no. I'm just saying we like you plenty. You don't have to go all Marie Callender on us," he said with a smile. She returned it, though hers was still a little crooked.

"Well I like you too, Dean," she teased lightly, but continued, "But no, I'm not tryin' to win votes. I just have to have something to do - if I knew anythin' about cars besides the basics and how to get them destroyed, I'd be out in the yard instead of making you two fat."

That got a laugh. "Well you stick around a while, I can teach you. Got more'n enough cars here to experiment on."

"Ben's tried," Claire snickered, shifting on now-steadier legs to dump the filling into the home-made crust. "But I don't mind more practice. Better at other things though," she said with no real pretense, catching a bit of filling off her thumb.

"Well I'll leave my judgment until after the pie's done," Dean teased.

"Good call," she replied, in the same tone. "You want anythin' for breakfast?"

"I've been taking care of myself for a few years now," he said with a smile. "I can manage it myself." Claire just snickered.

"Didn't ask if you could take care of yourself, I asked what you wanted for breakfast." Just for good measure, she sent him a sideways glance. "Gonna go against the pregnant lady?"

"Alright, alright." He held up his hands, moving over to the kitchen table. "I know when I'm beat." 

* * *

><p>Jesse was humming when he got out of the shower, which was something new. He'd never exactly been the humming type. But he couldn't help it when everything seemed so pleasant. Sure Sam's words still rested at the back of his mind, but that's where they could stay for now. Along with thoughts of vengeance. Right now what mattered were the Nephilim, and he was putting things aright with them. And they were helping him in return. The first night he'd spent with them had been sleepless, but after that he got used to the crowding, and their content love washing over him made drifting off the easiest thing in the world.<p>

Of course, he was only there for them because they needed him. So after a week, he'd hopped into bed that night with Ben and Claire. And not slept at all. The room was too...quiet. Empty. The second night was much the same. So the third night, he gave in, sneaking off when Ben and Claire went to bed and joining the elated Nephilim. And then the next night, and the night after. There was no harm in it, after all. Not like Ben and Claire really needed him next to them when they weren't even awake.

So he was completely relaxed as he entered their room, towel around his waist and hair still dripping. He was greeted with two of the same look, one from each of them - from her lean on the desk by the door, Claire's was clearly more formidable. Anger hid her hurt for the time being. Ben had the kind of set jaw that would slice through paper.

"Mind explainin' what's goin' on, Jess?" he asked, his voice pitched low. Most of the house was still drifting in and out of sleep.

The last remains of a smile left Jesse's face. He closed the door quietly behind him. "I'm guessing you're not talking about the towel," he said quietly. "I was just having trouble sleeping. So I went to check on the Nephilim and ended up spending the night in their room. That's all."

"Three nights in a row?" Claire injected, quick and quiet.

Jesse's eyes turned to the floor. "I didn't wanna wake you with me tossing and turning every night. I thought it was best for everyone."

Ben scowled. _You mean best for them,_ came the bitter afterthought. "Look, Jess, I know they need you, but they don't need you in their bed. They're not..."

"It's not just them. They're calmer, sure, but I sleep better, and I don't wake you." He looked between them. "I thought it was a good compromise."

Claire was looking at her own arms, crossed over her middle loosely, though she had an unnecessarily hard grip on her biceps. She was trying to push the whole situation through the 'what has to be done' filter in her brain, but that thing was getting pretty damned clogged lately.

"Look at it from our point of view." She looked up at him, complex things in her eyes. "What would you feel if I snuck off to sleep with four other people in the middle of the night?" And not just _people_ - there were heavier factors associating her connection to those teenagers in the other room, and both of them knew it, regardless of it not being explicitly spoken of.

Jesse's chest clenched, his arms stiff at his sides. She had a point, except they weren't just other people. He was inextricably tied to them. Which actually probably made it worse in their eyes. "You want me to stop." It wasn't a question.

"They're here and close to you," Ben said. "That's what you wanted. Unless that's changed."

"No," Jesse said, looking at him sharply. "I can't throw them out. Please. I won't sleep in their room anymore, I promise."

"No one said to throw them out." The words were more difficult to say than Claire anticipated, but she weathered through it, riding the small sense of relief that came with what Jesse had just said.

Letting out a slow breath, Jesse nodded. Then he went for the dresser, digging for his underwear and trying not to think about the coming night. Ben watched him a moment longer, watching the tension in Jesse's form, and felt a twist of irritation.

"You spend practically every waking hour with them. What's going on?"

Jesse's fists twisted his boxers in his hands. "I fucked up. Either I fix it by helping them or by taking out every last angel."

"How did _you_ fuck up?" Claire said. "You did everything you could to _avoid_ all that - _they_ pulled you in."

The drawer slammed shut as Jesse turned to her. "Don't you dare say that," he said, not even thinking as he stepped towards her. "They died to protect me. They _died_." Claire held her ground, but eyed him dangerously.

"I was talking about the _demons_ who _made them_."

"What, by making me care about the Nephilim? They didn't do that; _I_ did that. And I'm going to pay them back for protecting me, no matter what it takes."

"Listen to yourself!" Ben said sharply, instantly on his feet. "Do you even know what you're saying? Angels aren't just walking around in meatsuits waiting for you to lay the smack down. When they don't have hosts, they aren't bound to our physical laws. Do you even have a clue in your head what they could do to this whole damn planet, or are you so blinded by what happened to three hundred strangers that you stopped thinking straight?"

Jesse's eyes were hard as they turned on him. "They aren't _strangers_ to me."

"So what are they then?" Claire said, eyes locked on Jesse.

"Family," he snapped, staring back just as evenly. "The closest thing I have to blood."

Something broke in Claire's eyes, then quickly resewed into something far more fierce. The atmosphere in the immediate vicinity of her skin seemed to crackle, at least enough to stand the fine, invisible hair on her arms and back of the neck on end. "_Really_," she almost hissed, pushing off the desk to invade his space with her very presence. "So I guess the blood of your child's a distant relative? How's _she_ stand in the rank, Jesse? Or me, or Ben?"

He didn't back down, his expression tightening. "I would do _anything_ for you and Ben, even if it meant sacrificing those four. You know that by now."

Ben watched where he stood, feeling the static in the air between them. It was the first time they'd ever really _had_ a fight quite this, and he wasn't even sure how to handle it. Just like everything that involved all three of them at the same time, it was too much.

"Lots of conflicting things you're sayin', Jess," Ben said, shoving his fists into the pockets of his sweat pants. "You're out to kill every angel that ever existed because they died for you, but you would sacrifice them for us."

"You don't think I wouldn't do that for you? I would throw Heaven itself into the pit of Hell," Jesse said heatedly.

"_That_ is the difference—" Claire looked less murderous, but equally frazzled. "Between us, and all of them out there - angels, demons, the Four - all of them." She gestured sharply to between the three of them. "We are the only ones trying to keep you away from that. Away from the circumstances that made you run in the first place. _We_ are trying to protect _you_, Jesse... And we _know_ you're torn because of all that happened - anyone with a soul would be, but—"

"You're not going to be able to keep going like this," Ben interjected. "You're not strong enough. And if you get any stronger, they'll kill us all. He told me."

Jesse's expression drained. "When?"

"He's been telling me since he first poked his way around in my head. That there's gonna be another big apocalypse, that it's only time. He came again just last week. He's already shopping for a host because I denied him again." Ben's face pinched. "And your mother's back."

He didn't have to ask which one. Jesse's whole body sagged, the fight going out of him. "Hold back and keep running," he said quietly. "That's really all it amounts to, isn't it?"

Claire huffed a despairing breath, looking at the floor. Both Jesse's words and the tone wrapped around them pulled her heart into her stomach.

"It's not about running and hiding," Ben said firmly. "It's about knowing your limits. Maybe kill everything was an option when you were by yourself, but you're not by yourself anymore, Jess."

"I never... All I've ever done was run." He tugged on his boxers, pulling them on under the towel before removing it. "Whatever you think is right, we'll do it."

That was just the thing - this entire situation was grey area, and none of it ended well for anybody. Claire had been finding it hard to think straight, and found herself looking at the bedroom door for some sort of escape. The irony wasn't lost on her, but it didn't help either. She rubbed at her face with both hands, sinking down to the edge of the bed.

"I could ask Coyote..." she finally said, feeling her gut twist.

Ben looked back at her, brows lifted slightly and lips pressed thin in curiosity. He was a little apprehensive of the trickster, given what they'd experienced, but what was made more strange was why it had been Claire to suggest it.

Jesse scowled. "What's he got to do with anything?"

Claire took a deep breath and let it out slow, but it didn't seem to help anything. She went on to tell him everything she'd told Ben, about the first night Jesse was gone and the old god had come to her. She told him everything he'd said, and the whole time, she couldn't help but keep trying to reach into herself, and feel that general, if weird, sense of calm that came with the visit.

As she finished, Jesse felt as though his extremities had gone numb. There was too much of it to process. "And you want to bring him here? To ask him what we should do?" His voice was quiet, if a bit high.

Claire looked up at him, worn and obviously at the very end of her rope. "I can't think of anything else. We can't keep going like this for much longer."

"We don't have to," Ben said, settling down next to her, his arm circling around her hip. "Long as we're here, we'll be okay. Maybe not completely safe, but Sam and Dean, they can take down anything we can't. After the baby's born, then we'll figure out what to do about that." _I just don't know how long the wayward ninja kids will be welcome,_ he mused as he pressed his lips to Claire's temple.

Jesse stared at Ben, his face going pale. He was looking right at him, saw his lips pressed against Claire. Except he could hear Ben's voice keep talking, about the Nephilim. Had something gone wrong in his brain? Was he imagining it? Maybe he just thought he knew what Ben might add.

_I can't. I can't. I can't live with them._ Claire's thoughts stayed just on the inside of her lips, which were folded between her teeth. She sagged into Ben like her spine didn't work, her eyes aimed at the low middle distance. _They're toxic. Why can't he see it..._

"Don't—" The word blurted from Jesse's mouth but he held back, quickly turning back to the dresser. His hands shook as he dug for his pants. "Just, day by day, right? That's all."

Ben's arm tightened a little more around Claire, resisting the urge to pull her into his lap. "So no more overnights with the kidlets, and no more talk about taking on monsters with no bodies to stab into. I think we've had a productive talk." He watched the tension in Jesse's shoulders. "We love you, okay? We want you here."

Jesse closed his eyes. "I know. I love you, too."

Ben looked sideways at Claire when she didn't say anything, and knew the moment he looked into her face that she had checked out. She didn't want to talk anymore. And Jesse was still upset. _God, I just want all of us to be in love again. This isn't supposed to be happening,_ he despaired.

"Do you wanna rest a bit more, babe?" he asked her quietly. "I can go, work a bit on the car."

Claire blinked a few times, the burn behind her eyes becoming too great in that moment to fully contain. She swallowed thickly and shook her head, but kept her movements and voice deliberately gentle.

"I'm gonna take a walk into town," she said, trying to stay as neutral as possible. _I need out. Just to breathe_.

"Go ahead," Jesse said quickly, trying to find a way to shut his mind. He didn't need to hear it, he didn't want to. _Fuck, what's wrong with me?_

"D'you want me to come with?" Ben asked, conflicted as his eyes passed between the two of them. Claire shook her head faintly, giving his leg a squeeze before giving him a kiss. It was light, but genuine.

"I'll bring back somethin' from the farmer's market." She stood up from the bed, but didn't pass Jesse. Instead her hand slipped over his to angle him her way. Her look was still haggard and torn, but also desperate behind its restraints. She squeezed his hands to pull him down to her, and whispered, "I'm sorry for yelling," against his cheek.

He let out a long breath, clinging to the small nugget of peace that was her touch. "I'm sorry for making you yell," he whispered back, his lips pressing against her cheek. She turned into him for a light, but heart-heavy kiss before slipping away for the door, grabbing her coat on the way.

Jesse's eyes followed her, his insides twisting. He wanted things to be better than this, to stop making her life so much harder. But he turned back to his clothes, getting dressed. Once the door clicked shut, it was just him and Ben. The room was heavy with the silence between them.

_I should go,_ he thought immediately, hands on his knees. _She shouldn't be alone. But he's upset. God, this is my life. What am I supposed to do? They both need me right now._

"She just wants some time to breathe," Jesse said quietly. "She'll be fine."

"I know," Ben replied, his voice a little tight. "I just—" _want to help, don't want to lose you_ "—I..." His thoughts were a jumble of words as he tried to find the one that would work, but none of them sounded right and all of them made him feel worse.

In two steps, Jesse was over there, leaning down to take his mouth in a kiss. When he pulled back he said, "I'm here. I swear I'm here, always."

Ben's hands slid up to hold Jesse's face, his expression touched with apprehension and need. The same jumble of words rushed through his head, but more of them were focused on his fear of losing him. It was clear that he wasn't reassured. "C'mere," he said in the same tight voice.

Jesse sat next to him, his hands going to Ben's leg. "Anything you want, I swear."

"I know you feel for them," Ben whispered, resting his forehead against Jesse's. "I know you wanna help them. And yeah, they're not prepared for the world, I'm with ya on that, but you're going from one extreme to the next. It's scaring us." _I need you, we need you, please don't pull away._

"I'm..." Jesse's face tightened, pushing back the ache spreading through him. _Forget you can hear it. It might not even be real._ "I'm sorry. I don't mean to. There's just so much... I never... Have you ever watched someone die before?"

His eyes screwed closed, and while his face was only slightly stressed, Jesse could hear his mind practically screaming for his mother.

"Yeah. I still see it."

"It doesn't go away?" Jesse said, breathing deep, trying to block out what Ben was throwing at him.

It took a few moments before Ben seemed to calm down, and only because he took the moment to lean in and kiss him, firm and insistent. His hands found Jesse's, fingers curling up into his palm tightly.

"You learn to deal with it."

Jesse nodded, swallowing hard. "Seems to be a bit of a theme this year."

"When you love something—" _someone_ "—that's the start of everything. Bein' afraid, bein' angry, wanting to protect it, wanting to fight for it, not wanting to give up on it." Half-formed words still focused on the fear of losing him, which he reflected by tightening his grip on Jesse's hands.

"I'll never give up on it," Jesse said firmly, trying to banish those thoughts. "I love you. I'm here forever. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"I honestly don't know," Ben admitted. "Not without pushing you away. And neither of us want that. That's why we said come here. That's why we're both angry." Ben kissed him again, more and more insistent with each kiss. Jesse pulled back, only to start kissing down Ben's neck. _Trust me, love me, please, I'm here._

Ben's hands moved, one hand lifting to his shoulder to hold on tightly, his breath going a little uneven. It felt like his pulse had doubled. _Fuck, I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you._

"Jess," he said hoarsely. "Please..."

His mouth working lower to Ben's collarbone, Jesse slid a hand up to his chest. "I love you, I love you so much," he murmured against his skin. "I want you to know that every second, to never doubt it."

"Show me," Ben said against his temple. "Don't just tell me." _Wanna hear it I do every day every time you open your mouth I wanna hear it, but I need you so much—_ His free hand crossed between them, pushing right past the waistband of his pants and underwear.

Jesse took a sharp breath but pulled away, dropping to his knees. He'd show him, with everything he had. Soon they were a tangle of bodies in bed, moving against each other in desperate abandon. Ben cried out Jesse's name over and over, his voice starting to escalate. Beneath the sudden onslaught of Ben's mental praise, Jesse could feel the sudden focus of four other minds turning toward him. He forced it back even as he felt his face grow warm. This was just him and Ben, no one else allowed.

"That's it, that's it," he growled, hoping to drown out the crowding in his head. "So fucking perfect. Wanna feel you, Ben; wanna feel you come."

_Oh fuck yes fuck yes yes yes please just touch it fucking please please please_

[ _Master?_ ]

Ben's hands moved down his back and grabbed his hips hard, trying to make him press in harder, then suddenly moving his fingertips inward down the cleft of his ass. It was like whiplash, being torn between two places at once, but Jesse knew which one he preferred.

[ _GO AWAY!_ ]

The four points of focus blinked off the radar and Ben cried out beneath him, the muted sensation dancing on his outer edge flaring like a flash in a pan, just as Ben pressed in a finger and hooked it up hard. Jesse's cry hitched, his hips snapping hard against Ben, again and again.

"Love you love you love you," he panted like a mantra. Ben tipped his head back against Jesse's grip as he spilled over, moaning and gasping out wantonly as the words mashed into useless nonsense. On the crest of it he opened his eyes and looked up into Jesse's, his pupils blown to the rim.

_Always yours always so fucking blue I wanna drown in them love you so much._

His chest swelling near bursting — _his_ feelings, his alone — Jesse took Ben's mouth as he came, drowning out his own cry. Ben's one free arm circled around his back, holding on tight as they rocked against each other, perfectly synced. When the last of it ebbed, Ben pulled his fingers free, dragging them across the blanket before adjusting his grip so both arms were around his hips. He hugged Jesse with an almost bruising strength, face buried in his neck.

Breathing deeply, Jesse kissed his temple. Ben's mind was a tumble of love and contentment, turning into a sweet background noise. "That better?" he whispered.

"Didn't have to show me _that_ way, but I appreciate it," Ben mumbled against his neck, but Jesse could feel him grinning. _How are you so perfect so everything I need love you so much can't live without you,_ came the tumbling addendum.

Jesse chuckled. "Just comes naturally to me."

Ben moved his hands down to his ass, then slid his palms all the way to his shoulders, then doubled back. Just touching him filled his mind with pleasure-colored words and phrases. Jesse groaned.

"Y'know, we should be getting up." _I've got four people to chat with._

Ben tightened his arms around him. "Nope," he said simply, nipping at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. _Want you want you always want you._

Jesse bit his lip. Well how could he say no to that? "Alright, just checking."

His stomach twisted a little. [ _Ruth?_ ]

It was only when he reached out that he realized the house was surprisingly quiet and empty. Not just literally, but the mental absence was tangible. He jerked back, his eyes widening. [ _RUTH! Answer me c'mon where answer_ ]

There was still no answer. Ben's hand gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"The Nephilim are gone." Jesse couldn't help himself. He pushed off of Ben and off the bed, grabbing up his pants. All of Ben's earlier concerns swarmed back into him, but he kept his lips tightly closed, still naked on the bed as he watched Jesse dress in record time.

_It's always gonna be like this now, isn't it?_

Jesse froze, his throat closing up. "I just... I'll be right back, I swear," he said hoarsely.

Ben twisted his ring around over and over on his finger, eyes unfocused. _Please don't go. Please. Just stay here, with me and Claire._

"Okay," he said quietly.

Clenching his fists, Jesse stared at the floor, his chest tightening. "If...if you don't want me to go, I won't."

[ _Ruth Ruth please come back _ ]

Silence. Ben pushed up to sitting, pulling the blanket over his body.

"You'd kill yourself with guilt if something happened to them," he said, his voice still pitched low. "I heard every word you said, just now. Just... hurry back, okay?"

With every word Ben said, there were a million half-formed contradictions in his head, so much fear and desperation obvious in the word choices. Jesse felt like his head was being torn apart. He tried to cover his ears, but that only made Ben's thoughts louder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he moaned even as he pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't bear to look at Ben. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. If Ruth wasn't coming to him, he'd have to go to her.

He found himself in a dark, cold room. The only light came from a circle of candles he found himself in the middle of. Strung up on the wall, at each of the four corners, were Silas, Pheobe, Caleb, and Ruth. They spoke with one voice, in a language Jesse didn't know, and outside of the circle stood a young woman with red hair and a black low-cut dress, her head bowed. Jesse didn't think; there wasn't time. He ran for Ruth, figuring if he freed her, she could help the others, but the moment he hit the edge of the circle it was like slamming into a brick wall and he stumbled back. Beneath the spoken chant, Jesse could hear the woman chuckle.

"Knew you couldn't stay away."

He looked down, the lines of the devil's trap all too familiar. Turning to the woman he snapped, "Who are you? Let them go!"

The woman's head lifted, her eyes reflecting the firelight, but they were the same shade of darkness as the rest of the room.

"They came to _me,_" she simpered. "You _told_ them to leave."

Ice poured through Jesse's body. "No... No, Ruth, I didn't mean—" The words choked off as he looked at her. "Ruth, stop! Please!"

"She can't hear you," the woman said, her lips peeled back in a sinister smile as she walked around the edge of the circle. "I burned out their eardrums, right after I set them to their work." Her voice turned sing-song. "Not long now."

Jesse sagged to his knees. "No, no you can't... What are you doing with them?"

"Well they were vessels, in a way," she told him. "We made an extra hundred of them, as back-up, in case there were early casualties. But then you had to ruin things, didn't you? Refuse your role, leave them out in the open. All that hard work, gone. All we wanted was heaven." The four bodies on the wall suddenly seized, heads tipped back and breathing in hard. The woman lifted one hand, flicked her wrist, and the air filled with the sickening snap of three neck breaking.

The horror streaming through Jesse got hotter, brighter. He clenched his fists against the floor, breathing hard through clenched teeth. And the ground began to shake. The room grew inexplicably lighter. Sigils appeared on the wall, glowing with ethereal light as the room filled with smoke. Whispers filled Jesse's mind, formless like white noise as the smoke circled around Ruth like a tornado. Ruth's eyes flew open and wide, momentarily terrified, and then the smoke was pouring into her.


	8. Extended Scenes: Never Satisfied

"Keep that up, and this pie isn't gonna get made," she hushed. His other arm slid down to join its partner, pressing against the scoop of her hip and pulling her back into him more snugly. He continued to kiss her neck, letting out a low chuckle.

"Better now than before the pie's in the oven and we set it to burn," he murmured. She chuckled low, nuzzling back against him. Her palms took to leaning most of her weight on the counter.

"So this is probably a bad time to tell you I discovered something _new_ about myself this morning—?"

"If it's not life-threatening, it can wait," he said, the hand that had been at her hip pulling up her skirt, the fabric thin and delicately gliding against his skin as he sought out the skin beneath. The thrill of being found made every nerve hypersensitive, as was made very clear by the very pronounced weight pressing against her back. A deft smirk tugged into Claire's cheek as she swayed on her feet, adjusting her balance a bit to compensate.

"Someone's full of good ideas this mornin'," she teased low. She flicked a glance up at the clock over the microwave, then down the hallway as his hand skimmed over her underwear and then past the elastic. Claire held her breath, her back arching a little deeper.

"I get them sometimes," he said against her ear, nipping at the lobe. "Gotta seize the opportunities as they arise."

Finally closing her eyes, she was fully aware of just how much her heart had picked up. Was it the best of ideas? Probably not, but instincts or wishful thinking - whatever it was, it was telling her no one else was even remotely around. Jesse was still sleeping - she could feel it. Though she wished he was there with them (a thought that rarely left her mind in the last few days) missing him was exhausting. Claire just wanted to feel good for a little while.

"So what're you waitin' for?" she said in a gritty whisper. He chuckled in response, kissing the spot just behind her ear.

"Yes, ma'am," he rumbled out, the tips of two fingers sliding down between her legs. He dipped them into her, pressing in deep and up, then pulled them out and ghosted over her clit in small, tight circles. The hand still around her waist moved up, cupping her clothed breast and kneading it. Claire's lips fell apart in a staggered breath, her eyes clenched lightly at the fire under his fingertips. Her own tensed on the counter top, grasping for purchase.

"Gotta keep quiet," he whispered against her ear hotly, rocking his hips into her as he kept up the fast pace. "Don't wanna wake anyone else. But it feels good, hmm?" She nodded quickly, tucking her bottom lip under her teeth and baring down. Little sparks of pleasure already tightened the muscles of her thighs and kept her breaths in longer. One hitched and caught a whine in the back of her throat. In a matter of seconds, her body temperature seemed to have spiked. The image of him pulling at the material of her shirt until it ripped off her shoulder suddenly flashed behind her eyes, which fueled another jarred breath and almost drove her over the edge right there.

"Yeah, that's it," he encouraged, his voice nearly a growl as his fingers thrust into her again, pumping hard and fast. The hand on her breast moved up, past her collar and in to grip the naked flesh, his lips, teeth, and tongue mapping a trail down her neck. "That's my girl. You gonna come for me?"

Claire let go of her lip just long enough to gasp desperately, his voice adding edges to every sensation taking her over. Her nod was more of a twitch - barely controlled as she skirted the edge, feeling it burn in her thighs and deepen the bow in her spine. Each strangled breath held a little pinch of her voice, until shaking, her weight faltered on the counter and she came with a rasped version of his name. Letting go of the counter, her hand quickly covered her mouth, catching the pitched cries that followed. His hand left her breast, tipping her head back and pulling her hand away in order to claim her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. He continued to thrust his fingers through it until she finally started to sag, then he pulled back, holding her up with strong, steady arms. Good thing, since her knees felt a bit like jello.

"Not done, are you?" she was able to breathe and chuckle at the same time, rolling her hips back flush against him. He kissed her again, softer the second time.

"I can wait until later. Those apples'll go brown if you don't deal with 'em soon."

* * *

><p>"Jess," he said hoarsely. "Please..."<p>

His mouth working lower to Ben's collarbone, Jesse slid a hand up to his chest. "I love you, I love you so much," he murmured against his skin. "I want you to know that every second, to never doubt it."

"Show me," Ben said against his temple. "Don't just tell me." _Wanna hear it I do every day every time you open your mouth I wanna hear it, but I need you so much—_His free hand crossed between them, pushing right past the waistband of his pants and underwear.

Jesse took a sharp breath but pulled away, dropping to his knees. He'd show him, with everything he had. He kissed down Ben's torso, hooking his boxers and sweats down to free his cock.

Ben looked down at him, jaw slack and eyes a little glazed, his hands coming up to stroke through Jesse's hair. Just beneath the jumble of words half-formed in the other man's mind, Jesse could feel the smallest spark of desperation. He stroked Ben lightly before tightening his grip and circling his lips around the head of Ben's cock.

Ben's breath hitched and his hips lifted as his head tipped back. _Yes yes yes god yes god yes god yes please please please fuck—_ Jesse immediately drove down deeper, his hand twisting. He wanted him to feel good, to make him know how much Jesse needed and loved him. Ben immediately let out a helpless moan, his hands twisting tight into Jesse's hair, all the way down to his scalp. His hips canted up again, rocking up into each drop down. _Fuck yes god so hot so wet—_

"Fuck, your mouth," Ben rasped. "Jess, I—" _can't can't won't last please don't stop fuck yes please take me take me take me_ "—oh _fuck_."

Pulling away, Jesse yanked down Ben's sleeping pants and boxers, pulling them from his feet. "Get back," Jesse said, pulling his own pants off. Ben leaned back on the bed, bringing his feet up onto the edge to push himself back even further, then leaving his knees up and open as he stared hungrily upward. His cock gave a needy twitch, and his hands tightened in the sheets.

_Fuck, don't touch it, you're too close,_he told himself. Grabbing the lube from the side drawer, Jesse didn't say a word as he moved between Ben's legs, slowly working a slick finger inside him as he leaned down and kissed his chest.

"Fuck," Ben gasped out again, one hand lifting into Jesse's hair again. "Don't be slow." _Little bit of pain hurts pulls me back a little keeps me alive wanna feel you._Concern flitted over Jesse's expression, but he pressed in another finger.

If this...mind-reading thing helped him do what Ben and Claire wanted, then maybe it wasn't so bad.

It was just as intense, just as heady as when the thoughts came from the Nephilim. The only thing missing was that deep, pulsing emotional sensation; instead, it buzzed on the edge of his periphery, muted and almost nothing. He didn't work at Ben long before pulling his hand back and settling at his entrance. He hovered over Ben, looking straight into his eyes. "I love you."

Ben lifted one hand up to his face, stroking against his cheek before sliding behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss. _Love you love you love you love you love you—_ He slid one ankle up behind Jesse's knee. _Please please please..._

Even in his head the words sent a thrill through him, and Jesse's hips rocked forward, a little harder than he intended. Ben's moan was muffled against his mouth as the thrust jarred him a half-inch up the bed. _Fuckyesfinally god yes yes yes love you love you fuck me into the mattress take me make me yours._His hands moved to Jesse's back, gripping his shoulders hard as he lifted into the thrust. With a groan, Jesse fisted Ben's hair, thrusting harder, deeper, trying to take all of him.

Ben broke the kiss with a cry as he hit the deep, perfect spot, his eyes nearly rolling as he pushed back hard.

"Oh _fuck,_ Jess, Jess, _Jesse._" His voice started to escalate, and beneath the sudden onslaught of Ben's mental praise, Jesse could feel the sudden focus of four other minds turning toward him. He forced it back even as he felt his face grow warm. This was just him and Ben, no one else allowed.

"That's it, that's it," he growled, hoping to drown out the crowding in his head. "So fucking perfect. Wanna feel you, Ben; wanna feel you come."

_Oh fuck yes fuck yes yes yes please just touch it fucking please please please_

[ _Master?_ ]

Ben's hands moved down his back and grabbed his hips hard, trying to make him press in harder, then suddenly moving his fingertips inward down the cleft of his ass. It was like whiplash, being torn between two places at once, but Jesse knew which one he preferred.

[ _GO AWAY!_ ]

He drove his mouth against Ben's again, reaching between them to grab his cock. The four points of focus blinked off the radar and Ben cried out beneath him, the muted sensation dancing on his outer edge flaring like a flash in a pan, just as Ben pressed in a finger and hooked it up hard. Jesse's cry hitched, his hips snapping hard against Ben, again and again.

"Love you love you love you," he panted like a mantra. Ben tipped his head back against Jesse's grip as he spilled over, moaning and gasping out wantonly as the words mashed into useless nonsense. On the crest of it he opened his eyes and looked up into Jesse's, his pupils blown to the rim.

_Always yours always so fucking blue I wanna drown in them love you so much._

His chest swelling near bursting — _his _feelings, his alone — Jesse took Ben's mouth as he came, drowning out his own cry. Ben's one free arm circled around his back, holding on tight as they rocked against each other, perfectly synced. When the last of it ebbed, Ben pulled his fingers free, dragging them across the blanket before adjusting his grip so both arms were around his hips. He hugged Jesse with an almost bruising strength, face buried in his neck.

Breathing deeply, Jesse kissed his temple. Ben's mind was a tumble of love and contentment, turning into a sweet background noise. "That better?" he whispered.

"Didn't have to show me _that_ way, but I appreciate it," Ben mumbled against his neck, but Jesse could feel him grinning. _How are you so perfect so everything I need love you so much can't live without you,_came the tumbling addendum.

Jesse chuckled. "Just comes naturally to me."

Ben moved his hands down to his ass, then slid his palms all the way to his shoulders, then doubled back. Just touching him filled his mind with pleasure-colored words and phrases. Jesse groaned.

"Y'know, we should be getting up." _I've got four people to chat with._

Ben tightened his arms around him. "Nope," he said simply, nipping at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. _Want you want you always want you._

Jesse bit his lip. Well how could he say no to that? "Alright, just checking."


End file.
